IRLF 


SB    3D2    373 


\ 


«e«. 


LIBRARY 

OF  THR 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 


Mrs.  SARAH  P.  WALSWORTH. 

Received  October,  1894. 
Accessions  No.         ^.      Class  No. 


SERMONS 


FOPv    THE    PEOPLE. 


BY 


F.   D.   HUNTINGTON,  D.D., 

PREACHER  TO  THE  UNIVERSITY,  AND  PLUMMER  PROFESSOR  OF  CHRISTIAN 
MORALS  IN  THE   COLLEGE,   AT   CAMBRIDGE. 


THIRD   EDITION. 


BOSTON: 
CROSBY,  NICHOLS,  AND   COMPANY. 

CINCINNATI: 

GEOKGE'  S.  BLANCHARD. 

1856. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Coiferess,  in  the  year  1856,  by 

CROSBY,   NICHOLS,   &   CO., 
in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


CAMBRIDGE: 

STEBEOTYPED  AND  PRINTED  BY  METCALF  AND  COMPANY. 


.11 


IF  I  were  to  say,  in  the  familiar  phrase,  that  these  Sermons  were 
"  prepared  in  the  ordinary  course  of  the  ministry,"  and  for  the  most 
part  at  an  earlier  period  of  it,  and  "  with  no  view  to  their  publication," 
I  should  thus  show  no  cause  why  they  should  now  be  deliberately 
printed.  If  I  were  to  record  my  sense  of  their  manifold  and  large 
defects,  I  should  but  appear  to  be  pronouncing  myself,  in  advance,  as 
wise  as  the  critics.  Let  me  only  remark,  therefore,  that  they  have 
been  both  written  and  printed,  because  I  thoroughly  believe  the  things 
affirmed  in  them  to  be  true,  and  have  hoped  that  other  persons  might 
be  willing  to  meditate  upon  them  with  me. 

The  title  given  to  the  book  will  probably  suggest  all  that  needs  to  be 
said  of  the  principle  that  has  governed  the  selection  of  subjects  and  the 
style  of  their  treatment.  One  topic,  the  Reconciliation  in  Christ, 
though  by  no  means  neglected  here,  has  a  less  extended  and  less  com 
plete  presentation,  because  of  a  desire  to  discuss  it  separately,  more 
at  large,  and  more  at  leisure,  than  is  possible  now.  Without  bringing 
forward  any  personal  claim  to  the  attention  of  considerable  numbers 
of  "  the  people,"  I  am  earnestly  desirous  to  render  a  little  service  to 
some  of  those  who  are  not  much  in  the  habit  of  reading  discourses 
prepared  for  the  pulpit.  Were  I  to  give  to  this  title  a  more  special 
and  local  application,  by  emphasizing  the  definite  article,  I  should  not 
exaggerate  my  feeling  of  unmingled  and  unmeasured  gratitude  and 
love  towards  my  former  congregation,  —  a  People  that  must  always  be 
to  me,  in  a  signification  tnat  stands  alone,  THE  PEOPLE,  —  a  People 
that  I  tried  for  thirteen  years  to  help,  whose  harmony,  energy,  and 
fidelity  made  my  work  delightful,  and  whose  constant  kindness  I  cannot 
repay,  save  by  these  unworthy  acknowledgments,  and  by  an  attach 
ment  that  will  never  be  changed. 

F.  D.  H. 

CAMBRIDGE,  MAY  1,  1856. 


CONTENTS. 


OUR  CHRISTIAN  FAITH  A  REALITY 


SERMON    I. 

PAGE 


SERMON    II. 

REALITY   IN  RELIGIOUS  MANIFESTATIONS  .....        16 

SEEMON    III. 

ASKING  AND  RECEIVING       .........        31 

SERMON    IV. 

THE   SOUL'S   SEARCH       ..........        45 

SERMON    V. 

THE   SOUL'S  CORONATION     .........        57 

SERMON    VI. 

HOMEWARD   STEPS          ..........         71 

SERMON    VII. 

HOLINESS   TO   THE   LORD         .........        88 

SERMON    VIII. 

SATAN   TRANSFORMED    ........  ,103 


Vi  CONTENTS. 

SERMON    IX. 

FOUR  APOSTLES 


SERMON    X. 

ACCEPTANCE  OP  THE  HEART         ........      134 

SERMON    XI. 
WOMAN'S  POSITION      ..........    149 

SERMON    XII. 

THE   CHRISTIAN   WOMAN         ........  .164 

SERMON    XIII. 

THE   LAW   OF   THE  HOUSE     .  .  •  •  '        .....      ^'^ 


SERMON    XIV. 

CHILDREN,  —  HOW   TO  BE   RECEIVED  ......      I93 

SERMON    XV. 

ENTRANCE   INTO   THE    CHURCH      ........      208 

SERMON    XVI. 

TRIALS  OF  FAITH  ..........      224 

SERMON    XVII. 

SALVATION,   NOT   FROM   SUFFERING,   BUT   BY  IT  .  •  •  •      238 

SERMON    XVIII. 

DIVINITY   OF   CHRIST    ..........      252 

SERMON    XIX. 

DOCTRINE   OF   THE   SPIRIT     .........      271 

SERMON    XX. 

THE   SOUL'S   DEPENDENCE   ON   CHRIST,   AND   VICTORY  BY   HIM  .      289 


CONTENTS.  Vll 

SERMON    XXI. 

THE  HIDDEN  LIFE 310 

SERMON    XXII. 

SPIRITUAL  HEIRSHIP 330 

SEEMON    XXIII. 

THE   RELIGION   THAT   IS   NATURAL 362 

SERMON    XXIV. 

FOUNDATIONS  OP  A  CHRISTIAN   CITY 400 

SERMON    XXV. 

NATIONAL  RETRIBUTION,  AND  THE  NATIONAL  SIN    ....     418 

SERMON    XXVI. 

THE  WORD  OP  LIFE  :    A  LIVING  MINISTRY  AND  A  LIVING   CHURCH     433 


SERMONS, 


SERMON     I. 

OUR  CHRISTIAN  FAITH  A  REALITY. 

VERILY,    VERILY,    I    SAY    UNTO     THEE,    WE     SPEAK    THAT    WE    DO 
KNOW,   AND    TESTIFY   THAT   WE    HAVE   SEEN. — John  iii.  11. 

IT  "seems,  at  first,  but  a  very  moderate  claim  to  set  up 
for  the  alleged  truths  of  our  religion,  to  ask  that  they  be 
respected  as  realities.  But  a  second  thought  will  notice 
that  this  demand  covers  the  whole  ground.  Admit  that 
these  grand  affirmations  are  authentic,  —  that  God  is  a 
real  Father  and  really  a  Sovereign,  while  each  personal 
soul  —  yours  and  mine  —  is  his  child  and  his  subject; 
admit  that  spiritual  separation  from  him  is  the  most  ter 
rible  of  disasters,  and  is  to  be  healed  at  any  cost ;  admit 
that  Jesus  is  really  the  Christ,  who  achieves  that  reconcil 
iation,  coming  forth  out  of  God,  and  taking  up  the  whole 
experience  of  man ;  admit  that  for  a  Divine  law  broken, 
which  was  the  real  emergency,  Divine  Love  condescend 
ing,  with  a  Gospel  for  its  voice  and  a  sacrifice  for  its 
pledge,  is  the  real  relief;  admit,  once  more,  that  a  right 
eous  life  is  really  the  fulfilment  of  human  destiny,  and 
that  such  a  Life  reaching  on  and  expanded  into  the  life 
eternal  is  the  real  and  personal  immortality,  —  and  you 
have  granted  the  whole  conclusion.  For  the  very  terms 
of  the  statement  imply  something  beyond  intellectual  as- 


Z  OUR    CHRISTIAN    FAITH    A    REALITY. 

sent.  Something  beyond  is  certainly  wanted.  Such  is 
the  frailty  of  the  connection  between  an  abstract  convic 
tion  and  a  vital  practice,  between  a  concession  of  the 
understanding  and  a  grasp  of  the  affections,  that  history 
affords  scarcely  a  more  common  spectacle  than  an  inef 
fectual  creed.  But  the  term  I  take  to  characterize  the 
subject  implies  another  element.  When  we  say  that  we 
have  come  to  realize  a  doctrine,  we  mean  that,  some 
how,  that  doctrine  has  been  wrought  into  the  roots  of  our 
life.  It  has  passed  from  a  proposition  accepted  into  an 
influence  that  actuates.  Instead  of  lying  stored  away 
among  undenied  but  unprized  facts,  never  brought  out 
for  use,  it  enters  in  among  cordial  and  controlling  inter 
ests,  goes  into  the  pulses  of  the  blood,  and  the  changes 
of  pain  and  joy.  This  realizing  of  Christ's  truth  takes 
place  only  when  the  truth  in  question  emerges  from  the 
nebulous  haze  of  conjecture  into  clear,  sharp  light,  —  takes 
hold  of  feeling,  and  is  taken  hold  of  by  faith,  —  is  trans 
figured  from  a  dull  guess  into  a  radiant  assurance ;  when 
religion  rises  among  the  solid  verities  of  existence,  a 
thing  not  to  be  put  by,  nor  gone  around,  nor  reasoned 
away,  nor  even  let  alone,  but  to  besiege  the  heart  with 
that  solemn  and  immediate  Presence  whose  word  is, 
"Behold  I  stand  at  the  door  and  knock,"  —  to  appear 
face  to  face  before  the  whole  roused  and  wakeful  vision 
of  our  inward  nature,  and  insist  on  being  owned  and 
obeyed. 

Precisely  this  is  what  appears  to  be  most  needed  now, 
and  among  us,  for  the  true  efficiency  of  religion.  Spec 
ulative  unbelief  is  not  very  formidable.  The  technical 
objections  long  ago  lost  the  flavor  of  originality,  and  were 
always  rather  the  afterthought  and  apology  of  a  scepti 
cal  state,  than  the  logical  producers  of  it.  The  quarrel 


OUR    CHRISTIAN    FAITH    A    REALITY.  3 

of  Reason  with  Revelation,  under  the  umpireship  of  just 
interpretation,  is  almost  spent.  The  doubt  that  is  con 
stitutional  has  little  to  say ;  the  doubt  that  is  earnest 
commonly  labors  and  groans  its  painful  way  to  the 
light ;  and  the  doubt  that  is  the  offspring  of  a  crude  and 
conceited  intellectual  ambition  is  calmly  rebuked  by  riper 
studies,  outgrown  with  a  loftier  dignity  of  thought,  and 
put  off  with  childish  things.  But  is  that  enough  ?  Have 
we  reached,  or  are  we  nearing,  the  victory  of  faith  the  a? 
Is  not  passive  insensibility  often  as  tough  an  obstruc 
tion  as  positive  denial,  and  unconcern  as  hopeless  mor 
ally  as  opposition  ?  We  can  hardly  afford  to  boast  that 
sophistry  has  not  deluded  us,  if  indifference  has  stupefied 
us.  iHow  long  will  it  take  for  Christianity  to  rise  to 
the  throne  of  the  world,  and  command  its  practical  ener 
gies,  where  it  meets  only  with  the  lifeless  allowance, 
that  the  objections  have  been  duly  considered,  and  found, 
on  the  whole,  not  to  be  valid  ?  For  our  religion  is  nei 
ther  a  dogma  nor  a  theory,  a  thesis  nor  an  hypothesis,  a 
category  nor  a  dream.  It  is  a  spiritual  power.  It  is  a 
.personal  presence.  It  is  a  governing  genius  of  life.  It 
is  a  comforter  of  actual  sorrows.  It  is  a  quickener  to 
every  noble  work.  It  is  the  world's  best  builder  and 
planter  and  legislator  and  reformer.  It  is  not  a  stranger 
to  be  scrutinized,  but  a  friend  to  be  loved,  because  it 
has  first  loved  us.  It  is  not  a  guest  to  be  entertained, 
but  a  leader  to  be  followed ;  not  a  secret  to  be  found 
out,  for  its  very  face  is  a  revelation ;  not  a  clever  and 
promising  applicant  for  a  place,  which  thrift  may  turn  to 
account  or  vanity  display,  for  it  speaks  in  the  name  of 
the  Lord ;  not  an  institution  that  can  expire  by  limita 
tion,  nor  a  form  that  grows  old,  nor  a  ceremony  that  can 
•give  up  the  ghost  and  still  keep  on  its  feet,  but  an  ever- 


4  OUR    CHRISTIAN    FAITH    A    REALITY. 

lasting  and  ever-living  law,  "  vital  in  every  part 
policy  that  can  be  shaped,  but  a  principle  that,  by  its  own 
formative  and  irresistible  spirit,  shapeth  all  things.  It  is 
a  reality  ;  and,  if  a  reality  at  all,  then  a  reality  that  can 
say,  "  Thou  shalt,  and  thou  shalt  not "  ;  "  Come  unto  me 
and  I  will  give  you  rest "  ;  "  Whosoever  belie veth  in  me 
passes  from  death  unto  life";."  We  speak  that  we  do 
know,  and  we  testify  that  we  have  seen." 

I  invite  you  to  notice,  then,  some  of  the  few  central 
facts  in  the  Christian  faith,  that  authenticate  its  claim  as 
a  religion  of  realities.  Start  with  the  idea  of  God ;  — 
the  idea  of  him,  I  say,  which  is  a  fact  of  our  own  human 
ity.  Start,  that  is,  on  the  ground  of  personal  experi 
ence  ;  for,  if  anything  is  real,  it  must  be  the  home-scen 
ery  of  your  own  breast.  The  common  arguments,  from 
the  necessary  notion  of  the  Infinite,  from  the  universality 
of  worship  in  all  tribes  and  times  of  the  globe,  I  pass  by. 
Christianity  does  not  create  the  idea  of  God,  but  finds  it 
extant.  In  taking  the  being  of  God  for  granted,  it  sim 
ply  places  itself  on  the  basis  of  natural  reality,  —  a  reality 
affirmed  by  the  consenting  feelings  and  philosophies  of 
the  nations,  —  East  and  West,  North  and  South,  agreeing 
to  pronounce  atheism  a  monstrosity.  But  what  concerns 
us  here  is,  how  Christianity  deals  with  this  sacred  in 
stinct,  and  proceeds  to  nourish  and  satisfy  it.  I  say,  it 
is  after  the  manner  of  reality,  unfolding  real  relations 
between  this  Infinite  One  and  us,  filling  real  wants  by 
its  revelations.  "  Whom,  therefore,  ye  ignorantly  wor 
ship,  him  declare  I  unto  you,"  said  not  only  Paul  to  the 
Athenians,  but  Messiah  to  the  world.  It  is  a  real  au 
thority  that  speaks.  This  Jesus,  who  says  to  the  repre 
sentative  Pharisee  of  the  old  Judaism  that  comes  creeping 
and  hungry  to  him  by  night,  "  We  speak  that  we  do 


OUR    CHRISTIAN    FAITH    A    REALITY.  5 

know,  and  we  testify  that  we  have  seen,"  is  the  ever- 
living  Immanuel  that  left  the  glory  he  had  with  the 
Father  before  the  world  was  to  manifest  that  Father, 
one  with  the  Ancient  of  Days,  the  same  yesterday,  to-day, 
and  for  ever.  When  he  opens  his  lips,  the  style  is  real, 
because  the  spirit  is  sincere.  The  message  is  cordial, 
because  the  motive  is  love.  There  is  reality  in  the  very 
attitudes  and  occasions :  for  he  sits  down  weary  by  a 
Samaritan  well,  in  a  summer  noon,  and  talks  of  the  wor 
ships  of  ages  with  the  woman  that  comes  to  draw  water ; 
he  points,  as  he  walks  on,  to  the  sparrows  that  the  Heav 
enly  Father  feeds  ;  he  stoops  and  plucks  a  lily,  and 
shows  it  clothed  of  God  in  a  glory  passing  the  imperial 
splendors  of  Solomon. 

Then  there  is  reality  in  the  substance  of  his  doctrine. 
"  God  is  a  spirit":  with  that  simple  announcement  van 
ish  old  idolatries  that  materialized  the  gods,  and  mythol 
ogies  that  multiplied  them,  emptying  the  Pantheon  as  no 
Constans  or  Urban  could,  and  prostrating  the  altars  of 
pagan  profanation.  "  The  Lord  of  the  servants  cometh 
and  reckoneth  with  them  ;  small  and  great  shall  stand 
before  him  ;  there  is  a  right  hand  and  a  left ;  he  divideth 
the  sheep  from  the  goats ;  whatsoever  a  man  soweth,  he 
shall  reap  "  :  how  real  this  makes  his  judgment,  and  how 
genuine  his  justice !  But  what  is  perhaps  more  special 
in  the  Christian  teaching  about  God  than  anything  be 
side,  is  its  tender  disclosures  of  his  nearness,  and  his 
condescension  to  our  lowliness.  He  is  no  God  of  dis 
tant  skies,  of  enthroned  pomp,  of  royal  reserve,  but 
to  believing  hearts  close  as  the  air  and  intimate  as 
the  light  of  day.  Nothing  so  small  but  it  partakes  of 
his  majesty ;  nothing  so  obscure  but  it  publishes  his  pa 
ternity. 

i* 


D  OUR    CHRISTIAN    FAITH    A    REALITY. 

"  Teach  us  that  not  a  leaf  can  grow, 
Till  life  from  thee  within  it  flow ; 
That  not  a  grain  of  dust  can  be, 
0  Fount  of  Being,  save  by  thee !  " 

This  morning's  waking  was  the  touch  of  his  hand.  Last 
week's  plan  of  life  or  study  was  looked  down  upon  with 
his  sympathizing  notice.  This  worship  is  engaging  his 
compassion.  When  you  left  your  home  the  other  day, 
your  heart  devised  your  way,  but  the  Lord  did  really 
direct  your  steps.  When  you  prayed  that  God  would 
keep  those  you  left  there,  your  prayer  was  verily  heard, 
and,  whether  by  granting  or  denying,  it  will  be  God  him 
self  that  answers  you,  —  the  personal,  listening,  loving 
God.  No  God  that  is  hid  away  in  heartless  laws,  or 
prisoned  in  Pantheistic  ice,  but  the  friendly  God  of  each 
separate  soul  now,  as  of  the  elders  and  prophets,  —  of 
John  and  James,  of  Peter  and  Simeon,  of  Mary  Mag 
dalen  and  Jairus's  daughter.  Judaea  did  not  exhaust  his 
love.  He  is  the  God  of  these  houses,  and  streets,  and 
schools,  as  well ;  of  our  parents'  solicitude,  of  our  chil 
dren's  happiness,  of  our  own  frail  feet.  The  Christian's 
God  is  a  reality.  No  reality  on  earth  so  real ! 

Out  of  this  opens  the  true  doctrine  of  human  inter 
course  with  this  God,  or  Prayer.  It  sweeps  away  the 
artificial  notions  and  mechanical  customs  that  have 
grown  up  around  this  most  natural  of  the  soul's  acts, 
and  restores  it  to  its  just  simplicity.  What  is  natural,  if 
not  that  a  child  should  speak  to  his  parent,  dependent 
weakness  to  sustaining  power,  the  needy  subject  to  the 
gracious  king,  —  speak  his  wants,  his  gratitude,  1iis  trust, 
his  hope,  —  speak  in  the  common  language  that  earnest 
feeling  always  chooses  and  always  finds  ;  should  ask  for 
what  none  else  than  this  God  can  give,  tell  him  the  truth 


OUR    CHRISTIAN    FAITH    A    REALITY.  7 

because  there  is  a  privilege  in  telling  it  ?  And  this  is 
prayer.  It  is  a  reality,  then.  It  is  something  yearned 
for,  and  something  satisfying.  So  speaks  the  world's 
best  experience,  ever  since  man  has  breathed  upon  it, 
and  looked  up  from  it  to  the  pitying  heavens.  And  this 
is  what  Christ  and  the  New  Testament  teach  about 
prayer :  make  it  real ;  keep  it  fresh,  simple,  true,  and 
then  it  will  be  fervent  and  constant.  Fall  under  no  tor 
pid  routine  in  it.  The  only  safeguard  for  reverence  in 
the  service  is  to  realize  what  it  is.  There  is  one  error  of 
worshipping  God  as  if  he  needed  anything  we  can  bring  ; 
and  another  more  common  error  of  pretending  to  wor 
ship  him  without  really  believing  he  will  grant  us  what 
we  ask.  To  pretend  to  supplicate  things  we  do  not 
really  desire,  but  only  things  that  we  suspect  we  ought 
to  desire,  —  or  things  that  we  have"  heard  others  ask  for, 
and  therefore  coldly  conclude  it  is  proper  we  should  ask 
for,  —  is  not  prayer.  It  may  be  speculation.  It  may  be 
imitation.  It  may  be  self-excitation.  But  it  is  not 
prayer.  It  is  hearsay.  It  is  traditional  mummery.  It 
is  a  hollow  and  ghastly  affectation,  which  murders  faith 
within,  and  degrades  it  abroad.  Christ  brings  back  the 
doctrine  of  prayer  to  reality :  "  Ask,  and  ye  shall  re 
ceive."  It  is  all  in  these  five  words.  And  five  homely 
words  out  of  the  heart  are  better  than  prolonged  and 
polished  ascriptions  on  a  thoughtless  tongue.  Prayer 
for  the  least  things,  the  commonest  things,  the  really 
wished-for  things,  intercessions  for  others  beloved,  as  lit 
tle  children  ask  what  they  know  they  shall  receive,  or 
what  they  know  a  Love  wiser  than  their  own  will  deny ! 
This  was  the  temper  of  those  brave  devotions  that  went 
up  through  the  morning  air  of  the  Church,  and  have  been 
renewed  ever  since  where  trial  has  kept  faith  clear,  or  the 


8  OUR    CHRISTIAN    FAITH    A    REALITY. 

searching  Spirit  has  touched  the  soul ;  such  prayer  as  he 
roic  and  lofty-minded  men  have  found  to  be  the  best  of 
joys, — no  weakness  of  sentiment,  no  refuge  of  fear,  no 
hypocrite's  trick,  but  precisely  the  manliest,  the  most  ra 
tional,  the  maturest,  the  sublimest  act  of  man. 

Co-ordinate  with  this  open-hearted  and  loyal  commun 
ion  with  Heaven  is  the  love  of  man,  another  of  the  Chris 
tian  realities.  Here  again  Christianity  does  not  create 
the  sensibility,  or  the  faculty,  but  out  of  it  weaves  the 
bond  of  spiritual  brotherhood.  In  the  handling  and  train 
ing  of  that  social  instinct,  what  would  be  the  brightest 
tokens  of  reality  that  any  teaching  could  give  ?  Un 
doubtedly,  that  it  should  stimulate  fellowship  by  the 
healthiest  motive,  regulate  it  by  the  wisest  law,  and  di 
rect  it  to  the  purest  object.  Those  conditions  are  satis 
fied  in  the  New  Testament.  It  inspires,  it  organizes,  it 
consecrates  charity.  Its  motive  is  disinterested  mercy, 
of  which  its  central  and  crucified  Form  is  lifted  up,  the  in 
carnate  example.  Its  law  is  a  broad  and  far-seeing  equity, 
saving  it  from  wronging  one  class  by  righting  another, 
from  destroying  without  constructing.  Its  object  is  the 
personal  relief,  the  universal  liberation,  and  the  spiritual 
rectitude  of  every  soul,  and  thus  the  preparation  of  a 
righteous  society,  or  church,  which  is  the  coming  of  the 
heavenly  kingdom  on  earth.  In  all  this  process,  in  every 
step,  reform,  advance,  does  not  the  action  come  straight 
home  to  us  as  the  very  necessity  of  history,  prophecy,  as 
piration  ?  Yet  this,  and  only  this,  is  the  philanthropy  of 
Christ.  All  wanting  from  this  is  short-coming  from  the 
Gospel  standard.  All  added  to  this  comes  of  mortal 
mixtures.  To  publish  calls  to  honorable  labor  in  the 
kennels  of  starvation ;  to  equalize  work  and  wages  for 
the  least  protected  workman  and  workwoman ;  to  open 


OUR    CHRISTIAN    FAITH    A    REALITY.  9 

roads  to  self-respect  from  every  home  in  the  land ;  to  en 
courage  defeated  and  despairing  energies ;  to  bring  celes 
tial  pity  and  gentle  words  into  those  dismal  dens  where 
a  false  civilization  has  too  long  caged  its  insane  or  out 
cast  children ;  to  break  the  bonds  of  old  oppression  and 
let  the  oppressed  go  free ;  to  measure  labor,  not  by  the 
traditions  of  prejudice  and  pride,  or  the  outside  form  of 
the  business,  but  by  the  spirit  of  the  workman,  and  so  to 
make  all  lawful  toil  of  impartial  estimation ;  to  ward  off 
cold  and  hunger  from  penniless  infancy  and  age ;  —  all 
this  is  of  the  very  substance  —  is  it  not  the  glorious  re 
ality  ?  —  of  our  Christian  faith,  in  its  action  on  the  mu 
tual  life  ^of  men. 

Turning  from  the  social  to  the  private  offices  of  Chris 
tianity,  we  find  the  self-witnessing  proofs  of  genuineness 
equally  bright.  For  here  we  encounter  the  only  satisfac 
tory  interpretation  of  what  may  be  called  the  natural  ad 
miration  and  yearning  towards  an  ideal  moral  perfection. 
It  is  only  in  very  inferior  natures  that  this  sensibility  to 
exalted  goodness  is  utterly  depraved,  and  its  frequent 
dulness  on  the  one  hand  is  hardly  a  more  palpable  stu 
pidity  than  the  denial  of  its  existence  on  the  other. 
Baseness  itself  secretly  confesses  the  beauty  of  magna 
nimity.  A  guilty  life  rarely  wipes  out  the  last  trace  of 
childish  loyalty  to  the  right  and  good  and  true.  The 
story  of  triumphant  fidelity,  of  an  incorruptible  conscience, 
of  purity  coming  out  white  from  her  walk  through  foul 
intriguings  as  if  "  a  thousand  liveried  angels  lackeyed 
her,"  —  this  is  the  perpetual  charm  of  literature,  the  un 
dertone  of  drama  and  epic,  and  the  unconscious  challenge 
of  every  people  under  the  sun;  —  while  with  all  select 
souls,  the  tantalizing  disparity  between  the  aspiring  aim 
and  the  lagging  performance,  is  the  tragic  element  that, 


10  OUR    CHRISTIAN    FAITH    A    REALITY. 

except  for  the  Gospel,  so  often  throws  over  our  life  the 
sickening  suspicion  of  total  failure  after  all.  So  real  is 
the  passion  for  the  Best.  How  does  the  Gospel  justify 
it  ?  First,  by  pronouncing  its  hearty  benediction  on  these 
native  aspirations,  as  the  very  divine  seal  set  on  human 
ity, — its  pledge  of  kinship  with  heaven,  the  silent  proph 
ecy  and  infallible  foreshining,  however  baffled  for  the 
present,  of  a  life  to  come,  —  a  "light  lighting  every  man 
that  corneth  into  the  world."  By  encouraging  them : 
"  Why,  even  of  yourselves,  judge  ye  not  what  is  right  ?  " 
By  furnishing  them  nutriment  and  a  discipline,  to  ripen 
their  vigor,  and  make  them  strong.leaders  towards  a  good 
ness  unattained  :  "  forgetting  the  things  that  are  behind, 
reaching  forth  unto  those  that  are  before."  By  holding 
ever  up,  before  us,  one  in  whom  all  their  promises  are 
realized,  —  realized,  —  a  veritable  instance  of  immaculate 
sanctity  and  symmetrical  virtue,  taking  our  infirmities, 
yet  "  the  master-light  of  all  our  seeing,"  "  tempted  in  all 
points  like  as  we  are,  yet  without  sin."  And  finally  by 
giving  them  an  hereafter  where  they  shall  mature  into 
open  vision  and  into  calm  and  balanced  power,  — thought 
running  unrestricted  into  deed,  —  aspiration  playing, 
through  some  finer  spiritual  organization,  into  direct 
achievement,  —  and  believers  who  now  see  through  a 
glass  darkly,  and  know  but  in  part,  shall  see  face  to  face, 
and  know  even  as  they  are  known ;  —  the  sad  reality  of 
our  nature  met,  fulfilled,  satisfied,  in  the  animating  real 
ity  of  faith,  by  him  who  is  the  Resurrection  and  the  Life ! 
Not  less  does  the  New  Testament  fit  the  varieties  of 
human  consciousness  and  experience  in  its  great  doctrine 
of  a  ruling  choice  determining  character.  It  does  divide 
the  world  into  two  sorts  of  persons,  by  the  inexorable  line 
of  that  voluntary  consecration.  Every  life  has  a  prepon- 


OUR    CHRISTIAN    FAITH    A    REALITY.  11 

derating  bias,  —  a  characteristic  motive.  If  our  weak 
insight  fails  to  read  these  hidden  qualities  accurately  in 
others,  it  is  only  because  our  function  is  not  that  of  crit 
ics  on  one  another,  but  of  stewards  answerable  for  our 
selves.  Of  course  Christianity  does  not  stultify  itself  by 
denying  the  mixtures  of  disposition,  or  disallowing  the 
gradations  of  virtue  and  vice.  But  it  fixes  a  limit  where 
those  mixtures  no  longer  confuse.  There  is  one  differen 
cing  point  —  and  it  is  the  point  of  motive  —  where  the 
world's  people  and  God's  people  divide.  There  is  a 
mark  where  living  for  self-gratification^  whether  sensual 
or  intellectual,  ends,  and  living  for  Christ  and  his  right 
eousness  <takes  its  place ;  where  self-will  ceases  to  be  the 
controlling  force,  and  religious  submission  or  consecrated 
principle  begins  to  be.  There  may  not  be,  there  will 
not  be,  spotless  holiness  on  one  side,  nor  unmitigated 
and  demoniacal  depravity  on  the  other.  But  there  is  a 
divergence  as  wide  apart  in  its  issues  as  heaven  and  hell. 
On  one  side,  notions,  feelings,  acts,  which  might  other 
wise  seem  to  be  neutral,  take  a  taint  of  evil  from  an  un 
godly  bias  of  the  life.  On  the  other  side,  actions  and 
feelings  which  might  otherwise  be  indifferent  are  stamped 
as  good,  because  the  ruling  affection,  the  radical  inten 
tion  of  life  is  right,  or  Christian.  So  neutrality  ends, 
and  every  least  thing  has  one  of  two  contradictory,  char 
acteristic  qualities.  And  so  regeneration  is  both  a  philo 
sophical  and  a  Christian  fact.  "Ye  cannot  serve  God 
and  mammon."  If  the  Lord  be  God,  follow  him ;  and 
if  Baal,  then  follow  him.  Except  ye  be  born  again,  out 
of  the  negative  natural  life  into  the  positive  and  spirit- 
itual,  ye  cannot  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  Heaven. 
Christianity  confirms  common  sense.  Just  as  the  world 
says  of  you,  "  He  is  a  sound,  true  man,  through  and 


12  OUR   CHRISTIAN    FAITH    A    REALITY. 

through,"  —  or,  "  He  is-  a  false,  hollow  man  at  the  core," 
—  the  Bible  replies  with  a  scene  of  judgment  where  there 
is  a  right  hand  and  a  left,  and  by  saying,  "  I  know  mine 
own ;  no  man  can  pluck  them  out  of  my  hand  "  ;  "  Be 
tween  Dives  the  glutton,  and  Abraham's  bosom,  there  is 
a  great  gulf  fixed  "  ;  and  "  Choose  ye  this  day  whom  ye 
will  serve." 

But  there  is  one  reality  in  human  nature  darker  and 
more  fearful.  That  law  and  guide  of  life  I  spoke  of,  so 
real  in  its  uncompromising  command,  —  so  benignant  in 
its  protection  of  our  waywardness,  has  been  broken,  —  is 
broken  every  day.  Those  soaring  aspirations  that  beck 
oned  us  to  Heaven  are  shamefully  trailed  in  the  dust. 
Or  even  if  the  choice  has  been  fixed  aright,  still  the  law 
is  holy,  just,  and  good,  for  it  is  the  will  of  that  Infinite 
Purity  before  which  angels  veil  their  faces,  while  the 
saintliest  life  ever  transfigured  by  trial  or  refined  by  the 
fire  of  martyrdom  is  not  clean.  Yet  there  is  no  conces 
sion  in  that  august  command.  "Thou  shalt,  and  thou 
shalt  not,"  sounds  on  from  age  to  age,  as  if  obedience  were 
expected  to  be.  Without  speculating  on  a  problem  so 
vast,  the  question  gathers  close  home  to  the  breast,  and 
grows  intensely  personal,  Where  am  I,  and  what  is  for 
me?  I  am  daily  disgraced  by  these  earthly  appetites 
and  small  desires,  these  petty  captivities  to  temper  and 
vile  surrenders  to  sense.  I  am  weak,  and  worse  than 
weak.  I  am  frail  and  offending  and  guilty.  The 
meanness  of  ingratitude  to  my  best  Benefactor  aggra 
vates  the  iniquity  of  transgression.  By  speech,  by 
thoughts,  by  imagination,  by  things  undone  that  I  ought 
to  have  done,  by  openings  of  blessed  opportunity  neg 
lected,  by  stationary  capacities  and  languid  zeal  and  cold 
affections,  I  am  condemned  and  lost.  I  look  up  at  the 


OUR    CHRISTIAN    FAITH    A    REALITY.  13 

splendor  above  the  stars,  the  holiness  of  God,  and  it  is 
both  too  dazzling  and  too  far.  Who  shall  deliver  me 
from  this  death  ? 

Christ  shall  deliver  thee.  He  has  come  for  that,  —  to 
seek  and  save  the  lost,  because  his  Father  so  loved  the 
world.  And  somehow,  in  ways  that  I  will  not  be  pre 
sumptuous  enough  to  try  to  shut  up  into  my  definitions 
nor  measure  by  my  dogmas,  —  by  his  life,  teachings, 
death,  resurrection,  intercession,  all  contributing  ineffably 
to  complete  a  redemption  that  no  creed  can  comprehend, 
nor  critic  analyze,  —  he  brings  the  wandering  will  back, 
the  prodigal  spirit  home.  The  stern  handwriting  of 
ordinances  is  blotted  out.  Whoso  believeth  in  him 
cannot  perish,  but  is  passed  from  death  unto  Me,  —  eter 
nal  life.  This  is  all.  Ingenuity  can  add  no  supplement 
to  that.  Theologians  can  make  it  no  plainer.  Sects 
may  fasten  on  this  or  that  special  feature  of  the  redemp 
tion,  and  shape  their  systems  accordingly ;  but  it  is  the 
whole  that  redeems.  The  heart  of  the  world  has  ac 
cepted  the  reconciling  mystery,  and  will  not  let  the  di 
vine  reality  go.  "  This  only  I  know,"  said  the  believing, 
wondering,  trembling  blind  man  when  his  eyes  were 
opened,  —  "  this  only,  whereas  I  was  blind,  now  I  see." 
This  only  I  need  to  know;  the  faith  that  saves  is  the 
faith  that  inspires,  —  the  faith  of  practice,  working  by 
love,  proved  by  charity,  triumphing  in  integrity,  constant 
unto  death,  making  the  Christian  ever  more  and  more 
like  the  Master,  more  true  to  man,  humbler  before  God. 
For  if  any  man  have  not  the  spirit  of  Christ,  he  is  none 
of  his.  We  have  reached  the  supreme  reality,  character 
izing  the  Gospel,  crowning  the  cross,  satisfying  the  soul. 

From  these  slight  and  obvious  suggestions,  putting  for 
ward  only  what  is  plainest  and  most  familiar,  infer,  my 


14  OUR    CHRISTIAN    FAITH    A    REALITY. 

friends,  what  you  see  I  have  been  attempting  to  open,  of 
the  reality  of  our  Christian  religion.  In  its  ministry  to 
the  deep  cravings  of  simple,  honest  hearts  ;  in  its  mar 
vellous  adaptation  to  the  pain  and  gladness,  to  the  fear 
and  hope,  to  the  frost  and  the  fire,  of  our  inexplicable  hu 
manity  ;  in  its  unpretending  address  to  our  common  hab 
its,  speaking  the  language  of  life  and  wearing  the  look 
of  nature ;  in  its  boundless  relief  for  a  boundless  diffi 
culty  ;  in  its  expanding  and  exhaustless  fulness  for  all 
glowing  souls,  —  it  is  the  reality  of  realities.  I  had  almost 
said,  it  is  the  one  only  reality  of  which  all  visible  being  is 
but  the  unsubstantial  shadow.  It  is  the  closest,  dearest, 
most  undeniable,  most  human,  and  divinest  fact  given 
us  to  feel.  Religion  is  all  of  this,  or  it  is  nothing.  Its 
claim  is  valid  altogether,  genuine  from  core  to  surface, 
or  else  it  is  counterfeit,  metal  and  mould  alike.  The 
pulpit  is  grounded  on  this  foundation,  or  it  is  grounded 
nowhere.  It  stands,  not  to  repeat  dead  ceremonies,  nor 
to  mutter  magical  incantations,  nor  to  echo  heartless  tra 
ditions,  but  to  reproclaim  and  reaffirm  verities  that  enter 
in  among  throbbing  hearts,  yearning  souls,  and  beat  with 
all  the  solemn  and  joyful  pulses  of  life.  It  is  the  dispen 
sation  of  God,  the  highest  law  of  man,  the  determiner  of 
destiny,  the  master-thing  in  thought,  and  study,  and  ac 
tion,  —  a  reality  for  the  lowly  and  the  exalted,  for  illiterate 
and  learned,  for  the  slave  and  the  sage,  hidden  how  often 
from  the  wise  and  prudent,  but  revealed  evermore  unto 
the  childlike  heart.  I  ask  you  to  honor  the  ministry  of 
Christ  for  Christ's  sake,  and  to  heed  it  for  your  own,  — 
to  honor  the  office  as  a  reality,  spite  of  the  ever-present 
and  ever-palpable  proofs  of  the  infirmities  of  the  ad 
ministration, —  to  heed  the  cause,  notwithstanding  the 
poverty  of  the  plea.  For  here  it  shall  not  be  otherwise 


OUR    CHRISTIAN    FAITH    A    REALITY.  15 

than  it  has  been  from  the  beginning.  —  that  the  weak 
ness  of  God  is  mightier  than  man,  and  the  foolishness  of 
God  is  wiser  than  man. 

Brethren,  in  the  first  conflict  between  the  Gentile  dark 
ness  and  the  Christian  light,  Paganism  condescended  to 
offer  Christianity  a  respectable  place  in  the  temple  of  its 
idols.  The  poor  Galileans  knew  their  poverty ;  but, 
shelterless  and  few  and  friendless  as  they  were,  they 
were  too  rich  for  that  proud  patronage.  They  turned 
away.  They  took  up  staff  and  scrip ;  they  tied  on  their 
sandals,  and  journeyed  forth.  Christ  went  with  them. 
Out  of  weakness  they  were  made  strong.  They  went  up 
to  Rome,  the  world's  centre  and  strong-hole},  as  prisoners, 
and  took  it  as  conquerors.  They  quenched  the  violence 
of  fire,  stopped  the  mouths  of  lions,  waxed  valiant  in 
fight,  put  to  flight  the  armies  of  the  ah  ens.  They  led 
captivity  captive.  They  looked  on  the  Pretorian  eagles 
and  were  not  afraid,  —  for  the  Spirit  had  descended  like 
a  dove.  They  did  not  tremble  at  crosses,  for  they  bore 
a  cross  for  their  standard,  and  its  banner  over  them 
was  love.  They  turned  from  prudent  philosophies  to 
the  eager  heart  of  man.  They  preached,  they  lived, 
they  died,  they  rose  again,  for  a  reality.  They  spake 
that  they  did  know;  they  testified  that  they  had  seen. 
And  unto  the  end,  when  all  things  shall  be  surrendered 
up  to  the  Father,  the  ministry  that  avails  must  be  the 
ministry  of  then*  Christ,  and  of  their  sincerity,  —  of  their 
reality  of  faith,  as  the  substance  of  things  hoped  for,  the 
evidence  of  things  not  seen. 


SEEMON    II. 

EEALITY   IN   KELIGIOUS    MANIFESTATIONS. 

SIMPLICITY  AND   GODLY   SINCERITY.  —  2  Cor.  i.  12. 

I  TAKE  these  words  out  from  their  connection,  and  pre 
sent  them  alone,  because  the  rest  of  the  passage  is  less 
suited  to  my  purpose.  It  is  enough  to  notice  that  the 
Apostle  mentions  these  qualities  as  attributes  of  the  gen 
uine  Christian.  He  thinks  the  whole  Gospel  he  is  set  to 
preach  and  defend  is  more  likely  to  get  a  hearing  from 
the  world's  common  sense,  and  to  lodge  itself  in  the 
world's  convictions,  for  being  presented  in  the  spirit  and 
manner  of  those  traits.  Whatever  may  be  his  own  in 
firmities  and  short-comings,  he  rejoices  in  the  conscious 
ness  that  he  has  been  honest.  Gifts  and  accomplish 
ments  aside,  he  can  say  without  immodesty  that  he  and 
his  associates  have  at  least  this  legitimate  claim  to  confi 
dence, —  the  testimony  of  a  good  conscience  that  in  sim 
plicity  and  godly  sincerity  they  have  had  their  conversa 
tion  in  the  world.  Had  it  been  otherwise,  the  planting 
of  the  Church  might  have  taken  damage  from  their  ob 
liquity,  and  the  tardy  triumph  of  the  Christian  ideas 
might  be  chargeable  upon  the  messengers.  Such  con 
gratulation  is  not  pride,  but  Christian  dignity;  not  self- 
laudation,  but  self-respect,  which  is  the  opposite  of  self- 


REALITY    IN    RELIGIOUS    MANIFESTATIONS.  17 

laudation ;  not  boasting,  but  gratitude  to  the  grace  of 
God. 

You  will  readily  recall  those  aspects  of  the  Christian 
faith  which  offer  it  to  us  as  the  Supreme  Reality.  Real 
in  the  positive  and  eternal  objects  it  reveals ;  real  in  de 
termining  our  relations  to  that  Original  and  Infinite  Spirit, 
diffused  through  all  things,  creating  all,  sustaining  all, 
the  ground  of  all  life,  and  thought,  and  act,  and  hope ; 
real  in  the  style  of  its  address,  the  tone  of  its  appeal,  and 
its  whole  bearing  toward  our  humanity ;  real  in  its  ex 
press  adaptations  of  supply  and  satisfaction  to  personal 
and  universal  wants  of  human  nature ;  and  real  in  the 
palpable  ends  it  proposes,  as  righteousness,  charity,  benef 
icence,  for  earth  and  heaven, —  Christianity  cannot  be 
more  viciously  misunderstood  or  foolishly  maltreated, 
than  when  it  is  thrust  out  of  the  circle  of  solid  interests, 
and  held  at  the  arm's  length  of  suspicion.  The  Church 
is  a  vital,  natural,  rational,  precisely  because  it  is  a  divine 
organization.  It  has  its  roots  in  God's  miracles  precisely 
because  of  the  depth  and  intensity  of  man's  need  of  it. 
Its  fibres  are  all  intertwined  with  the  fibres  of  human 
breasts.  The  cover  is  not  going  to  be  taken  off,  some 
time,  to  show  us  an  ingenious  contrivance  of  mechanical 
wires,  springs,  and  pulleys,  for  working  up  stupendous 
stage-effects  of  Christian  impression  and  Christian  his 
tory.  The  tapestry  is  not  going  to  open,  and  terrify  us 
with  some  ghostly  apparition.  The  sun  is  not  going  to 
rise  and  scatter  these  sacramental  hosts,  like  airy  armies 
of  morning  mist  and  cloud.  We  stand  on  substance,  or 
there  is  no  substance,  and  the  universe  itself  is  spectral. 

To  this  way  of  welcoming  the  divine  message,  there 
are  unquestionably  hinderances,  partly  clinging  to  the 
weaker  or  worse  side  of  human  nature,  and  partly  a  facti- 

2* 


18  REALITY    IN    RELIGIOUS    MANIFESTATIONS. 

tious  result  of  theologic  mismanagement.  One  of  these 
hinderances  is  the  invisibleness  of  the  objects  of  faith, 
though  I  suppose  the  prominence  of  this  cause  for  relig 
ious  indifference  has  been  popularly  overrated.  It  would 
be  a  sufficient  answer  to  it,  that  the  things  most  valued, 
and  clung  to,  and  suffered  for  by  men,  are  not  commonly 
things  that  can  be  seen  or  measured.  The  sacred  ties  of 
friendship  are  not  fastened  by  the  senses.  Would  you 
allow  me  to  say,  Your  friend  is  nothing  but  his  body  ? 
You  never  saw  the  national  fame  for  whose  unsullied 
purity  you  would  die,  nor  touched  nor  tasted  that  fidelity 
of  love  whose  defence  writes  half  the  tragedies  of  litera 
ture.  Money  itself,  the  very  symbol  of  material  value,  is 
rated  —  by  any  but  the  most  sottish  cupidity  —  less  for 
itself  than  for  the  imponderable  deference,  admiration, 
self-complacency,  independence,  which  it  is  thought  able 
to  buy.  In  fact,  so  far  from  the  invisible  repelling  in 
terest,  there  is  no  charm  so  bewitching  as  a  new  theory 
of  its  mysteries.  The  superstition  that  will  pry  behind 
its  veil,  or  listen  for  its  vaguest  noises,  is  one  of  the  most 
permanent  and  most  absorbing  passions  of  the  race. 
Still,  with  a  portion  of  mankind,  and,  in  certain  material 
istic  moods,  with  very  many,  a  degree  of  dimness  does 
probably  invest  spiritual  things  from  their  being  unem- 
bodied ;  what  is  seen  crowds  what  is  not  seen  out  of 
thought,  and  finally  out  of  faith  ;  heaven  remains  an  ab 
straction  simply  because  its  gates  are  shut  to  the  senses. 
Another  unrealizing  influence  strikes  religion,  from  the 
oppressive  disparity  between  the  magnitude  of  the  con 
cerns  and  the  infirmity  of  the  treatment.  Reverence 
fades  out,  wonder  is  tamed  down,  faith  is  frittered  away, 
with  the  familiar  belittlement  of  themes  vast  as  infinity, 
by  unworthy  hands.  The  Gospel  has  to  be  repeated  by 


REALITY    IN    RELIGIOUS    MANIFESTATIONS.  19 

stammering  tongues.    Promises  that  of  themselves  should 
thrill  all  souls  with  ecstasies  of  hope,  are  pronounced  in 
our  flat,  insipid  speech.     Warnings  more  tender  and  aw 
ful  than  a  mother's  entreaty  are  uttered  in  tones  that 
routine  and  repetition  have  rendered  thin  and  dry.     The 
wisdom  of  the  All-wise  has  for  its  advocates  frail  judg 
ments,  dull  insight,  and  men  of  like  passions  with  the 
rest.     Shall  it  never  be  learned  that  treasure  is  none  the 
less  treasure  because  it  is  in  earthen  vessels  ?     In  other 
matters,  the  enthusiasm  of  a  close,  personal  interest  is 
not  deadened  by  a  dull  declamation.     A  science  is  hard 
ly  held  responsible  for  the  eloquence  of  a  lecturer,  nor 
does  a  tempting  speculation  go  by  default  if  the  story  of 
it  happens  to  be  brought  across  the  continent  by  a  poor 
specimen  of  a  man.     To  make   Christianity  depend  on 
the  power  of  its  preachers,  or  the  skill  of  theologians,  is 
at  once  to  measure  absolute  beauty,  truth,  and  good  by 
mortal  competency,  and  to  stimulate  the  pulpit  with  a 
spur  as  foreign  from  Gospel  simplicity  as  it  is  insulting 
to  the  authority  of  God.     The  function  of  a  clergy  is  not 
the  audacious  one  of  representing  the  Majesty  of  Heaven, 
but   to    plead    generously  with  the  reluctance  of  men ; 
not  to  dole  out  God's  compassion  by  the  petty  dimen 
sions  of  their  intelligence,  but  to  be  unpretending  heralds 
of  a  Christ  who  makes  their  weakness  his  strength,  and 
even  the  foolishness  of  preaching  the  wisdom  of  God 
unto  salvation. 

It  aggravates  this  unreality,  that  there  is  so  imperfect 
an  adjustment,  in  the  Christian  mind,  of  the  relations 
between  the  spiritual  world  and  our  present  life.  By  a 
twofold  error,  the  object  of  religion  has  first  been  repre 
sented  as  personal  happiness,  and  then  that  happiness 
has  been  located  in  an  arbitrary  future,  not  beginning  till 


20  REALITY    IN    RELIGIOUS    MANIFESTATIONS. 

death  rids  us  of  bodies.  A  selfish  salvation,  with  me 
chanical  conditions  !  In  this  sharp-cut  division  of  earth 
and  heaven  an  artificial  antagonism  is  created,  not  be 
tween  good  and  evil,  or  sin  and  holiness,  which  are  the 
actual  opposites,  but  between  two  epochs  in  a  chronologi 
cal  succession,  the  grave  being  the  partition  line.  Heav 
en  is  wages  to  be  waited  for,  instead  of  a  nobler  play  of 
the  disinterested  life  already  begun.  Two  worlds  from 
the  same  perfect  Hand  are  put  into  contrary  sides  of  the 
scale,  and  hatred  of  one  of  them  is  made  a  passport  to 
the  other.  At  once  unspiritualizing  the  motives  to  piety, 
and  indiscriminately  condemning  the  present,  the  doc 
trine  repels  all  natural  confidence.  Shallow  minds  recoil 
from  a  representation  which  they  instinctively  feel  to  be 
false,  and  seek  a  wretched  refuge  in  unconcern.  Add  to 
this,  sometimes,  a  technical  phraseology,  putting  the 
moving  and  blessed  facts  of  righteousness  and  redemp 
tion  into  language  which  either  to  educated  tastes  or  to 
unsophisticated  common  sense  sounds  like  both  a  provin 
cialism  in  letters  and  an  affectation  of  theology,  and  you 
have  another  explanation  why  these  transcendent  realities 
look  unreal  to  so  many  eyes.  This  may  be  no  excuse 
for  blunders  that  study  would  correct ;  but  it  is  an  in 
structive  admonition  to  direct,  simple,  every-day  speech 
in  dealing  with  things  so  supremely  real. 

After  all,  however,  there  does  remain  a  vast,  conscious 
indifference  to  Christian  truth,  from  sheer  and  guilty  im 
patience  of  its  control.  These  realities  are  purposely 
thrown  into  obscurity,  because  they  interfere  with  in 
dulgence,  cross  ambition,  yoke  the  passions,  chastise 
temper.  They  not  only  ask  that  we  should  allow  the 
spiritual  world  an  inert  place  in  our  belief,  as  we  might 
a  new  planet  or  botanic  species,  but  they  enter  as  a 


REALITY    IN    RELIGIOUS    MANIFESTATIONS.  21 

prohibition  and  a  compulsion.  There  must  be  irksome 
self-denial.  This  Gospel  is  something  more  than  an 
entertaining  comer  at  the  table  of  literary  hospitality ; 
it  erects- itself  into  a  master  of  the  house  ;  and  lo!  every 
appetite  and  lust  must  obey  it  on  penalty  of  a  judgment. 
The  mouth  of  slander  must  be  stopped.  The  jealous 
competition  must  relax.  The  profanity  must  be  re 
nounced.  The  stubborn,  atheistic  knees  must  bend. 
The  arrogant  will  must  cry  out  of  the  dust,  "  Not  as  1 
will,  but  as  Thou  wilt,  for  Thou  alone  art  holy."  So 
the  struggle  begins.  Depravity  fights  this  benignant 
master.  Rebel  passions  reject  that  heavenly  coercion. 
Still,  the  Eternal  Voice  cannot  be  put  by.  What,  then, 
if  the  coward  spirit  should  feign  ignorance,  and,  by  keep 
ing  the  ineffable  glory  at  a  distance,  gradually  make  it  as  • 
unreal  as  sin  could  desire  ?  Let  these  bright  rebukers 
fade  from  me,  and  be  dim !  Is  there  no  magic  that  can 
turn  substance  into  shadow  ?  no  chemistry  that  can 
transmute  facts  to  phantasms  ?  It  appears  again,  what 
I  said  before,  that  to  realize  the  Christian  facts  would  be 
to  take  up  the  Christian  consecration,  and  enter  on  the 
life.  Christianity  wants  nothing  so  much  as  a  steady 
look  at  it,  out  of  honest,  seeing  eyes. 

The  question  next  before  us,  then,  concerns  the  man 
ner  of  operation  and  manifestation  of  this  Christian 
power,  in  the  lives  of  its  believers,  and  the  conversation 
of  its  teachers.  The  law  here  appears  to  be  clearly 
enough  pronounced,  by  the  nature  of  the  power  itself. 
A  spiritual  principle  and  fact,  the  very  essence  and  in 
most  soul  of  real  life,  Christianity  must  be  offended  and 
weakened  by  any  other  than  a  look  and  tone  and  tem 
per  of  reality  in  its  expression.  After  its  first  supernat 
ural  incarnation,  its  agents  are  men.  The  organs  of  its 


22  REALITY    IN    RELIGIOUS    MANIFESTATIONS. 

movement  are  human  faculties.  Then  its  action  ought 
to  be  according  to  the  natural  working  of  human  powers 
in  their  right  or  normal  play.  The  Christianity  that  is 
meant  to  be  developed  on  earth,  beautifying  its  life  and 
blessing  its  affections,  is  not  an  abstract  thing,  nor  an 
angelic  thing,  but  a  human  thing :  human,  that  is,  in  the 
sense  of  acting  through  human  conditions  in  free  harmo 
ny  with  the  best  human  forces,  though  superhuman  in  its 
source  and  sanctions,  as  in  fact  humanity  itself  is :  so 
that  the  correspondence  holds  throughout.  The  kind  of 
Christian  action  and  Christian  speech  wanted  for  the 
best  exhibition  of  Christian  truth,  is  that  where  the  word 
and  the  deed  just  follow  and  obey  the  meaning  of  the 
soul ;  where  the  feeling  or  conviction  of  the  truth  exactly 
measures,  spaces,  and  shapes  the  outward  profession ; 
where  the  disciple  holds  it  an  equal  infidelity  to  pretend 
to  more  or  to  less  faith  than  he  possesses  ;  where  the 
spirit  of  zeal  just  occupies,  fills  up,  and  animates  the 
body  of  appearance  ;  where,  in  fact,  the  expression  is  not 
nicely  regulated  by  a  conscious  and  special  reference  to 
its  external  effect,  as  being  exemplary,  but  by  a  certain 
spontaneous  and  irresistible  impulse  of  a  holy  purpose  in 
the  breast.  The  bearing  of  a  religious  man,  that  is,  must 
be  the  bearing  of  a  man  with  religion  in  him  and  actuat 
ing  him;  religion,  not  as  a  supplement  to  his  manhood, 
but  infused  all  through  it,  hallowing  and  animating  it ; 
religion,  not  taken  on,  but  circulating  within  ;  not  worn, 
but  informing ;  not  borrowed,  but  breathed  forth ;  "  sim 
plicity  and  godly  sincerity." 

To  this  Christian  reality  of  living  there  are  two  prin 
cipal  opponents :  hypocrisy  on  one  side,  and  indifference 
on  the  other.  Each  needs  to  be  a  little  analyzed  and 
illustrated. 


REALITY    IN    RELIGIOUS    MANIFESTATIONS.  23 

Hypocrisy,  as  respects  Christian  qualities,  is  the  gen 
eral  name  we  give  to  the  disposition  that  aims  to  appear 
better  than  it  is.  The  hypocrite  seeks  the  credit  of 
qualities  which  he  not  only  does  not  possess,  but  knows 
he  does  not  possess :  it  is  a  conscious  deception.  To 
complete  the  idea  of  hypocrisy,  there  must  be  a  reference 
to  some  selfish  advantage,  as  custom  for  a  trader,  or 
votes  for  a  politician,  or  fame  for  a  scholar.  The  pre- 
tention  is  not  only  fraudulent,  but  the  fraud  of  mean 
ness,  —  the  grossest  of  all  forms  of  insincerity  ;  —  "  the 
lie,"  as  Bacon  says,  "  that  sinketh  in."  The  intensity  of 
Christ's  disgust  at  this  temper  may  be  gathered,  as 
from  the  whole  spirit  of  his  teaching,  so  especially  from 
the  vivid  rebukes  he  gave  it  in  the  Hebrew  Pharisees. 
The  common  instincts  of  honor  accord  with  the  Bible  in 
declaring  it  the  guiltiest  of  all  sins  that  are  not  crimes. 
It  is  the  most  fatal  enemy-  that  Religion  has  to  confront, 
and  tearing  off  its  mask  is  her  most  unwelcome  task. 
Yet  superficial  critics  persist  in  making  her  chargeable 
for  the  very  insults  it  heaps  upon  her. 

On  the  same  side  of  reality,  or  departing  from  it  in  the 
same  direction,  as  professing  more  faith  than  there  really 
is,  we  find  a  lifeless  formalism.  In  the  former  case, 
Christian  vitality  had  no  existence,  and  the  semblance  of 
it  was  a  pure  fabrication.  Here  it  lived  once,  but  has 
gone  into  decay,  and  the  semblance  of  it  is  the  surviving 
shape,  when  the  life  has  gone  out.  It  is  to  the  credit  of 
human  /nature  that  this  sin,  if  more  frequent,  is  less 
enormous.  Yet  there  is  no  calculating  its  practical 
mischiefs,  especially  in  repelling  from  the  Christian 
ranks  the  sympathies  and  confidence  of  the  young. 
For,  notwithstanding  its  aberrations,  the  soul  retains  this 
trait  of  native  nobility,  that  it  will  knowingly  trust  none 
but  true  men. 


24  REALITY    IN    RELIGIOUS    MANIFESTATIONS. 

There  are  two  branches  of  this  trespass  upon  reality : 
excess  of  ceremony  and  excess  of  dogma. 

Like  all  the  great  practical  interests,  religion  clothes 
itself  in  a  dress  or  form,  —  institutional  customs,  modes 
of  worship,  ordinances.  So  long  as  we  inherit  forms, 
and  have  in  our  natures  an  element  to  which  visible 
ceremonies  appeal,  this  tendency  will  not  be  eradicated, 
though  it  is  constantly  being  modified.  The  real  argu 
ment  for  religious  forms  is  found  in  all  civilized  usages, 
—  such  as  the  general  arrangement  of  houses,  uniform 
ity  of  fashions  in  clothing,  tokens  of  recognition,  familiar 
phrases  of  salutation,  the  manners  of  hospitality.  Va 
riety  amounts  to  modifying  the  form,  never  to  abolishing 
it,  —  those  sects  which  have  started  with  the  idea  of  abol 
ishing  it  generally  ending  in  a  more  rigid  formality  than 
the  rest.  Yet  at  this  very  point  lies  a  constant  peril  to 
"  simplicity  and  godly  sincerity.'1  Church  history  shows 
a  perpetual  struggle  to  keep  an  .honest  balance  between 
the  spirit  to  be  expressed  and  the  form  expressing  it,  — 
the  faith  of  the  heart  and  the  fashion  of  the  institu 
tion.  Whenever  this  proportion  is  lost,  the  disorder  that 
we  call  formality  begins.  Observance  overlays  feelings. 
The  faith  is  not  vigorous  enough  to  inform  and  carry 
off  the  institution.  The  temple  is  too  big  for  the  divin 
ity.  Instead  of  the  grace  of  nature,  you  have  the  awk 
wardness  of  imitation;  instead  of  speech,  mummery; 
instead  of  expression,  grimace ;  instead  of  gesture,  beat 
ing  the  air.  Either  there  must  be  an  accession  of  fresh 
feeling  within,  to  reinvigorate  the  old  form,  or  else  the 
old  form  must  be  abated,  or  changed,  to  suit  the  changed 
feeling,  or  buried  for  decency's  sake.  Somehow,  at  any 
rate,  the  man  will  not  enact  what  he  does  not  believe. 
That  is  the  one  wrong  that  kills  reality  and  kills  respect. 


REALITY    IN    RELIGIOUS    MANIFESTATIONS.  25 

To  expect  to  revive  a  declining  faith  merely  by  multiply 
ing  ceremonies,  is  as  hopeless  as  to  multiply  pumps  in  a 
dry  well,  or  to  try  to  restore  the  dead  by  more  garments. 
The  life  to  refill  these  empty  veins  must  come  from  an 
other  source.  It  must  come,  by  prayer,  from  the  Spirit  of 
God.  No  preservation  of  the  dried  shell  of  the  cistern  will 
cheat  nature  into  thinking  there  is  a  fountain  beneath. 
"  Simplicity  and  godly  sincerity  "  require  that  every  cere 
monial  observance  should  be  so  adjusted  as  to  convey  the 
real  feeling,  and  no  more,  —  the  real  faith,  and  not  an  arti 
ficial  faith  or  a  faith  such  as  may  have  been  felt  once. 
The  ceremony  was  meant  for  the  symbol  of  a  real  con 
viction.  When  we  substitute  it  for  the  conviction,  and 
let  that  drop  out,  going  coldly  and  mechanically  through 
the  genuflexion  or  the  manipulation,  we  destroy  reality, 
and  enter  on  a  mocking  falsehood.  Yet  it  is  just  when 
men  find  their  interest  failing,  and  are  alarmed  at  it,  that 
they  are  tempted  to  redouble  their  assiduity  at  the  cere 
mony. 

A  corresponding  loss  of  soul,  and  sacrifice  of  reality, 
take  place  in  respect  to  creeds,  or  statements  of  belief. 
Too  much  ceremony  is  acting  more  than  we  believe : 
too  much  dogma  is  affirming  more  than  we  believe. 
In  each  case,  the  expression  outruns  the  sentiment.  The 
salt  has  lost  its  savor.  No  heartless  eloquence  ever  yet 
stole  the  secret  of  a  sincere  conviction.  The  reason 
that  the  first  period  when  faith  is  declining,  and  before 
it  has  yet  gone  over  to  worldliness  or  sensuality,  is  gen 
erally  marked  by  a  multiplication  of  dogmatic  articles, 
or  definitions,  is  that  the  inward  consciousness  of  want 
alarms  the  conscience,  and  the  intellect  goes  to  work  to 
supply  the  deficiency.  Theologians  grow  sensitive,  exact 
ing,  and  controversial.  An  age  of  dogmatism  is,  there- 


26  REALITY    IN    RELIGIOUS    MANIFESTATIONS. 

fore,  an  age  of  morbid  self-consciousness,  when  the  under 
standing  is  trying  to  do  the  heart's  neglected  business. 

The  common  and  offensive  form  in  which  these  un 
realities  of  religious  profession  appear  is  cant.  The 
source  of  all  cant  seems  to  be  an  attempt  to  speak  and 
act  certain  things,  which  the  narrow  and  perverted  mind 
has  decided  should  be  the  proper  utterance  of  religious 
emotion,  —  but  with  the  emotion  left  out.  The  best 
that  can  be  said  of  it  is,  that  it  is  not  always  hypocrisy, 
but  sometimes  only  stupidity.  Of  course  it  is  totally 
inconsistent  with  spirituality,  which  is  always  fresh, 
always  vital,  always  real.  No  soul  that  has  been 
touched  with  the  simple  majesty  of  the  Sermon  on 
the  Mount,  that  has  sat  at  the  feet  of  the  truthful 
Jesus,  that  takes  its  spiritual  draughts  from  that  foun 
tain  of  which  if  a  man  drink  he  shall  never  thirst  again, 
can  consent  to  affront  the  eternal  veracity  by  offering 
as  a  plea  for  piety,  or  a  prayer  to  the  Father,  a  hollow 
phrase,  a  sanctimonious  manner,  a  technical  expostula 
tion,  a  language  caught  from  the  ancient  lips  of  faith, 
but  emptied  of  all  its  living  significance,  and  dwin 
dled  now  into  the  drivel  of  make-believe.  As  soon 
could  a  son  ask  for  his  lost  mother  in  the  pompous  and 
stilted  terms  that  memory  has  learned  from  some  print 
ed  dialogue.  Let  learned  unbelief,  let  sneering  scep 
ticism,  let  ingenious  and  sophistical  infidelity,  accu 
mulate  all  their  arguments  upon  my  child's  unfortified 
intelligence,  rather  than  that  this  paralyzing  cant  of  an 
unfelt  devotion  should  creep  with  its  slow  poison  into 
the  reverence  and  earnestness  of  his  soul.  Paul's  justifi 
cation  of  his  apostleship,  "  I  believed,  and  therefore  have 
I  spoken,"  is  the  only  decent  pretext  for  any  preaching 
or  any  prayer.  "  Simplicity  and  godly  sincerity." 


REALITY    IN    RELIGIOUS    MANIFESTATIONS.  27 

Godly  sincerity.  The  other  danger  to  reality  in  a  re 
ligious  life  and  conversation,  besides  that  of  its  not  being 
religiously  real,  is  that  it  will  not  be  really  religious.  If 
there  is  one  false  tendency  to  pretend  to  more  faith  than 
is  felt,  there  is  another,  not  to  let  feeling  have  its  free 
and  natural  way.  If  some  men  speak  more  than  is  hon 
est  of  religion,  others  have  no  religion  to  speak  honestly 
of;  and  the  one  class  is  as  far  from  godly  sincerity  as  the 
other.  Never  imagine  that  a  diluted,  indifferent,  half- 
worldly  character  is  a  more  genuine  or  more  conciliating 
sort  of  character  than  one  that  is  decidedly,  thoroughly, 
and  zealously  Christian.  If  that  is  the  opinion  of  men 
of  the  world,  as  they  are  called,  then  men  of  the  world 
do  not  know  the  world  they  are  of.  There  is  no  fascina 
tion  on  earth  like  that  of  disinterested  and  steady  enthu 
siasm.  Every  class  of  men  will  pay  it  at  least  a  secret 
homage.  When  you  would  win  the  confidence  and  in 
terest  of  thoughtless  persons  to  the  Christian  life,  do  not 
introduce  them  to  professed  disciples,  who  keep  their 
Christianity  as  far  as  possible  in  the  background  of  their 
daily  interests,  and  have  practised  the  art  of  living  so 
near  the  boundary  of  righteousness  as  to  fraternize  with 
the  levities  and  ambiguities  and  sharp  practices  outside. 
You  might  better  hope  to  engage  a  young  man's  interest 
in  knowledge  by  being  a  little  ignorant,  or  in  work  by 
being  a  little  idle,  or  in  philosophy  by  being  a  little  fool 
ish,  than  try  to  make  him  respect  religion  by  meeting 
him  half-way  and  being  a  little  irreligious.  I  think  there 
is  a  deep,  silent  loyalty  in  most  men's  hearts  for  that  in 
spired  maxim,  —  "Whatsoever  thy  hand  findeth  to  do, 
do  it  with  thy  might."  Even  in  the  most  careless  breast 
I  suspect  there  is  a  notion  which  might  express  itself 
something  like  this :  "  No ;  I  am  not,  I  frankly  confess  it, 


28  REALITY    IN    RELIGIOUS    MANIFESTATIONS. 

on  Christian  ground  ;  I  hope  I  shall  be  ;  I  know  I  ought 
to  be ;  but  whenever  I  am,  it  shall  be  a  Christianity  that 
is  thorough,  that  is  definite,  that  is  positive,  that  is  in 
earnest ;  I  want  that  or  no  religion  at  all ;  no  lukewarm, 
sluggish  vacillation  between  God  and  Mammon ;  I  would 
rather  be  Mammon's  altogether,  and  know  my  master: 
and  wherever  I  see  an  earnest,  consistent,  whole-hearted 
Christian,  there  I  find  the  mightiest  argument  for  the 
Gospel."  So  it  is  that  godly  sincerity  becomes  a  silent 
missionary  everywhere,  and  converts  more  hearts  to  Christ 
than  all  loud  and  loquacious  temporizers  and  compromis 
ers  with  the  passions  and  fashions  of  the  world. 

For  two  reasons,  my  friends,  —  for  our  own  soundness  of 
heart,  and  for  the  recommendation  of  the  Gospel  to  others, 
—  we  want  a  type  of  Christian  character  that  is  simple 
in  its  spirituality,  and  real  in  all  its  manifestation.  Noth 
ing  is  surer  to  consume  the  health  and  vigor  of  the  soul, 
than  the  constant  acting  of  an  unfelt  part,  —  like  the  pre 
tender,  on  the  one  hand,  or  the  constant  denier  of  his  ho 
liest  aspirations,  the  unrepenting  worldling,  on  the  other. 
There  is  a  reflex  influence  from  every  tone  and  gesture 
of  insincerity,  which  strikes  back  and  debilitates  the 
moral  energies.  Utter  what  you  do  not  believe,  and  you 
will  have  less  and  less  capacity  for  believing  anything. 
Pretend  what  you  do  not  feel,  and  feeling  will  die  out. 
The  retribution  is  dreadful,  and  sure,  and  works  by  an 
inevitable  law.  Or  if  you  stifle  the  religious  life  that 
really  wakes  and  rises  within  you,  denying  it  air  and 
light,  you  forfeit  no  less  the  blessing  of  the  candid  and 
sincere. 

Then  a  ministry  unquestionably  gains  power,  just  in 
the  degree  it  drops  factitious  methods  and  weapons,  and 
abides  by  the  simple  instruments  of  genuine  convictions. 


REALITY    IN    RELIGIOUS    MANIFESTATIONS.  29 

We  all  know  the  narcotizing  tendency  of  official  repetition. 
Pray  for  the  preacher,  then,  that  he  may  be  delivered  from 
its  lethargy.  God  will  never  suffer  it  to  be  irresistible. 
Remember  that  it  is  in  the  power  of  any  audience,  by  a 
responsive  and  wakeful  assistance,  to  neutralize  it,  and 
almost  to  compel  from  their  minister  the  heartiness  they 
prize.  Besides,  you  yourselves  are,  in  some  sense,  to  be 
ministers  of  heavenly  truth.  For  Christ  or  against  him 
all  of  you  are  living,  speaking,  acting,  every  day.  Does 
the  immortal  cause  take  hinderance  from  your  falsity,  or 
furtherance  from  the  reality  of  your  righteousness  ? 

The  exigencies  of  the  Church,  the  mixtures  of  sects,  the 
progress  of  theology,  all  point  out  the  style  of  life  that  is 
wanted  now,  to  gain,  for  the  ideas  and  the  spirit  of  our 
common  faith,  a  fair  and  cordial  reception.  It  is  a  life 
that  flows  evermore  from  the  divine  spring  of  a  living 
and  personal  communion  with  the  Father,  and  goes  to 
help  every  brother,  and  to  bless  every  neighbor;  that,  while 
it  is  hid  with  Christ  in  God,  walks  among  men  with  the 
tenderness  and  dignity  of  the  Son  of  Man ;  that  asks 
no  deference  for  its  profession,  but  professes  simply  be 
cause  it  cannot  help  telling  its  trust,  owning  its  gratitude, 
honoring  the  Master ;  that  by  open  and  solemn  reverence 
for  the  times  and  places  of  God's  worship  obeys  the  man 
liest  of  instincts,  and  by  consecration  to  the  Church  con 
fesses  the  inmost  obligation  of  conscience  ;  that  finds  an 
exercise  for  its  Christian  principle  in  all  the  companies, 
associations,  resorts,  employments,  of  the  world,  and  a 
temple  for  its  praise  in  every  scene  of  joy ;  that  brings  an 
added  grace  to  all  the  innocent  amenities  and  hopes  of 
youth,  and  sets  a  more  splendid  crown  on  the  saintly 
head  of  age ;  that  sanctifies  society  and  kneels  in  the 
closet ;  that  hallows  study  and  guards  homes,  and  is  not 

3* 


30  REALITY    IN    RELIGIOUS    MANIFESTATIONS. 

afraid  to  show  its  sacred  spirit  of  justice  and  moderation 
in  places  of  sinless  amusement ;  and  that  everywhere 
bears  with  it  this  meek,  brave  testimony,  that  by  "  sim 
plicity  and  godly  sincerity "  it  has  had  its  conversation  in 
the  world. 

God  has  graciously  relieved  us  of  all  concern  about  the 
special  shape  our  Christian  life  shall  put  on,  that  we  may 
be  the  more  undivided  in  our  care  for  its  spirit.  Have 
the  soul  of  goodness,  and  it  will  fashion  its  own  form, 
hour  by  hour.  The  best  profession  of  righteousness  is 
being  righteous.  The  best  form  of  godliness  is  the  form 
most  naturally  taken  by  the  power  thereof.  The  best 
temper  of  church  or  clergy  is  "  simplicity  and  godly  sin 
cerity."  The  best  bearing  for  a  believer,  making  confes 
sion  of  his  faith,  is  the  bearing  with  which  he  comes  out 
of  the  closet  of  a  lowly  and  solemn  communion  with  his 
God.  The  best  posture  of  dignity  is  the  attitude  that 
yields  most  friendly  service  to  needy  men.  The  tran 
scendent  and  majestic  posture  of  the  Son  of  God  was 
when  he  leaned  to  wash  his  followers'  feet. 

When  this  last,  most  spiritual,  and  most  evangelical 
reformation  comes,  Christianity  will  have  gone  out  from 
cloisters,  from  creeds,  from  clerical  confinements,  into  the 
open  field  and  broad  experience  of  the  people  and  the 
age.  But  it  will  never  be  by  breaking  the  'strictness  of 
its  commands,  nor  lowering  the  standard  of  its  holiness. 
For  there  is  no  entrance  within  the  gates  of  a  holier  Fu 
ture,  save  the  new  and  living  way  which  Christ  hath  con 
secrated  ;  nor  is  there  any  other  name  than  His  given 
under  heaven  among  men,  whereby  labor  or  learning, 
wisdom  or  simplicity,  rich  or  poor,  can  be  saved. 


SERMON     III. 

ASKING   AND    KECEIVING. 

ASK,   AND   IT    SHALL   BE    GIVEN   YOU.  —  Matt.  Vli.  7. 

SIMPLE  words,  but  covering  the  deepest  facts  in  our 
life  !  Consider  how  much  they  imply  :  —  the  being  of 
God;  the  dependence  of  man;  a  communion,  or  inter 
course,  between  their  spirits ;  a  feeling  of  want  on  the 
part  of  man ;  a  faith,  with  him,  that  God  can  fill  that 
want;  and  the  absolute  truth,  independent  on  his  no 
tions,  that  God  is  able  to  fill  it,  out  of  his  infinitude. 
These  are  certainly  great  facts.  They  are  as  impressive 
to  a  rational  intellect  by  their  grandeur,  as  they  are  af 
fecting  to  the  heart  by  their  tenderness.  They  are  at 
once  majestic  ideas  and  comforting  promises. 

I  have  sought  in  the  New  Testament  for  my  present 
use  some  expression  that  should  not  only  contain  an  in 
junction  to  pray,  as  a  duty,  but  should  offer  a  motive, 
also,  turning  it  into  a  privilege.  This  is  precisely  the 
significance  brought  out  by  the  turn  of  the  text's  lan 
guage.  "  Ask,  and  it  shall  be  given  you,"  conveys  a  rea 
son  that  moves  the  affections,  as  well  as  a  precept  issued 
to  our  will.  •"  Ask,"  which  is  bare  command,  borrows 
persuasion,  and  so  couples  with  itself  a  new  force,  from 
the  assurance,  "  It  shall  be  given  you."  This  is  the 


06  ASKING    AND    RECEIVING. 

form,  I  suspect,  which  the  doctrine  of  Prayer  takes  oft- 
enest,  in  the  minds  of  those  that  really  feel  what  it  is. 
They  are  less  conscious  of  being  constrained  by  a  sense 
that  they  ought  to  pray,  than  by  a  feeling  that  that  is  the 
way  of  gaining  what  they  crave.  The  authority  that 
prompts  the  service  is  not  external,  but  within.  And 
when  they  w^ould  draw  their  companions  into  the  same 
devout  habit,  they  are  more  anxious  to  illustrate  it  as  a 
satisfaction  than  as  an  obligation. 

This  Discourse  will  aim  to  exhibit  not  so  much  the 
entire  compass  of  the  subject  as  certain  specific  and  sa 
lient  points  in  it,  —  some  of  them  of  the  nature  of  diffi 
culties,  —  which,  as  having  engaged  themselves  with  some 
interest  in  one  experience,  may  be  fairly  supposed  to  have 
a  practical  value  to  more  than  one.  Even  of  a  spiritual 
exercise  so  permanent  among  men  as  prayer,  it  is  true 
that  it  presents  different  phases  and  questions  at  differ 
ent  times,  according  to  the  genius  of  that  period,  the 
mental  fashions  of  the  day,  and  the  tendencies  of  relig 
ious  speculation.  Whatever  affects  devotion,  affects  the 
prime  power,  the  root,  and  cardinal  element  of  religion 
itself. 

In  the  study  of  any  subject  that  deserves  to  be  studied 
at  all,  we  wish  to  go  to  competent  and  authentic  sources 
of  knowledge.  These  sources,  in  respect  to  spiritual  in 
tercourse  between  the  soul  and  God,  must  be  two, — 
biblical  authority,  and  experience.  Each  of  these  inter 
prets  the  other.  If  they  both  agree,  they  produce  a 
double  certainty  of  conviction,  so  far  forth.  Whatever 
exceptions  reason  might  take  to  the  report  of  either  one 
alone,  they  are  so  beautifully  fitted  to  complete  and  con 
firm  each  other,  that  reason  cannot  reject  their  united 
testimony,  without  becoming  unreason.  Outside  of 


ASKING    AND    RECEIVING.  33 

these  two,  we  cannot  expect  much  light.  Abstract  rea 
soning  cannot  inform  us  reliably  about  prayer,  because 
prayer  is  an  act  eminently  and  essentially  personal ;  it  is 
an  act  lying  aside  from  the  province  of  abstractions,  be 
tween  two  persons,  and  involves  all  along  persqnal  attri 
butes,  relations,  and  emotions.  On  the  other  hand,  mere 
mortal  insight  is  an  incompetent  teacher  here,  because 
one  of  the  parties  necessary  to  this  high  commerce  is 
above  Nature,  the  very  centre  and  impersonation  of  the 
Supernatural.  So  far  as  that  part  of  prayer  is  concerned 
which  relates  to  the  feeling  of  want  in  us,  natural  in 
sight  suffices  as  an  expounder ;  but  the  moment  we  look 
over,  to  inquire  about  the  answer,  —  what  ground  we 
have  for  confidence  that  we  shall  be  answered  at  all,  who 
is  to  answer,  and  on  wThat  conditions  the  answer  is 
gained,  —  simple  intuition  leaves  us  in  the  dark.  Expe 
rience  and  Scripture  combined,  then,  exactly  meet  our 
case,  —  sufficient  guides.  Experience  suits  the  personal 
character  of  prayer,  —  satisfying  the  heart  as  to  the  ac 
tual  interchange  of  feeling  in  it.  Revelation  lays  open 
the  supernatural  secret,  —  telling  us  explicitly  of  the 
God  we  pray  to,  how  to  worship  him,  and  how  infallible 
the  guaranty,  that,  if  we  ask  believing,  we  shall  receive. 

It  may  be  inquired,  of  what  use  experience  can  be  in 
teaching  us  the  nature  and  privilege  of  praying,  when 
the  presumption  is  that  the  practice  has  not  been  begun, 
and  the  very  object  of  the  knowledge  sought  is  to  estab 
lish  the  habit  by  which  experience  comes.  The  reply 
is  twofold.  In  the  first  place,  by  the  effect  of  testi 
mony,  one  person's  experience  is  carried  over  and  made 
good  for  another.  One  devout  soul,  bearing  simple  arid 
earnest  witness  what  it  has  received  by  asking,  reporting, 
with  tokens  of  voice  and  manner  too  sincere  to  be  rnis- 


34  ASKING    AND    RECEIVING. 

taken,  the  actual  peace  and  strength  God  has  sent  it, 
will  inevitably  act,  as  by  a  kind  of  holy  contagion,  on  the 
consciousness  of  others,  kindling  at  least  a  transient  flush 
of  sympathy,  quickening,  often,  a  deeper  faith,  and  ini 
tiating  possibly  some  young  or  impressible  spirit  into  the 
heavenly  life.  Herein  lies  the  pious  efficacy  of  much  re 
ligious  biography,  modest  relations  of  experience,  and  the 
friendship  of  faithful  men.  They  cast  private  joys  into 
a  commonwealth  of  hope,  and  multiply  one  real  believ 
er's  prayers  into  the  thanksgivings  and  supplications  of  a 
Church. 

In  the  second  place,  the  act  of  praying,  as  fast  as  it  is 
encouraged,  is  found  to  fit  itself  in,  by  a  remarkable  and 
beautiful  harmony,  with  all  our  better  moods,  and  all 
higher  states  of  the  soul.  In  other  words,  the  experience 
of  prayer,  even  in  its  feebler  beginnings,  is  suited  to  all 
other  moral  experience,  and  so  seems  to  gain  confir 
mations  from  every  purer  feeling  we  are  conscious  of. 
When  any  soul  truly  asks  God  for  a  spiritual  gift, — 
truly,  I  say,  that  is,  with  those  dispositions  of  heart  that 
are  indispensable  to  such  an  act,  humility  and  trust,  — 
not  only  is  it  thereby  better  prepared  to  renew  this  par 
ticular  act  of  prayer,  but  all  its  Christian  traits  are 
strengthened  at  the  same  moment.  Purity  becomes 
more  transparent,  forbearance  more  patient,  charity 
more  catholic,  uprightness  more  inflexible,  conscience 
more  vigilant.  Such  a  divine  provision  has  God  made 
to  tempt  the  least  stirring  of  devout  inclinations  on,  —  to 
comfort  the  disciple's  earliest  resolution,  and  to  lead  his 
hesitating  feet  forward  into  the  steadiness  and  serenity 
of  sainthood.  Of  course  the  consciousness  of  such  in 
ward  blessings  will  be  faint,  according  to  the  dimness  of 
an  undisciplined  faculty ;  but  a  delicate  perception  will 


ASKING    AND    RECEIVING.  35 

discern  them,  and  an  honest  perseverance  will  bring 
them  to  maturity.  A  fact  of  such  large  and  striking 
effects,  so  uniform  as  to  become  a  law  of  our  constitu 
tion,  rewarding  the  first  real  petition  with  the  gerrns  of 
many  reformations  and  the  budding  of  a  cluster  of 
graces,  justifies  us,  I  think,  in  saying  that  prayer  is 
enjoined  and  supported  by  human  experience. 

You  will  observe  that  this  view  discards  the  maxim, 
which  some  creeds  have  dogmatically  pronounced,  that 
it  is  a  sin  for  a  man  to  pray  till  he  is  sure  he  is  already 
in  a  state  of  grace ;  discards  it,  at  least,  unless  it  be 
granted  that  the  very  impulse  he  feels  to  ask  God's  help 
is  evidence  that  he  is  already  in  a  state  of  grace.  It  can 
not  be  wise,  not  evangelical,  not  promotive  of  healthy 
effort,  to  draw  these  bars  of  forbidding  iron  across  the 
avenue  to  the  mercy-seat.  The  moment  man  or  child 
feels  one  earnest  impulse  lifting  his  desire  heavenward, 
that  is  the  providential  moment  for  him  to  cry,  "  Our 
Father,"  and  pour  out  his  heart's  emotion  to  the  last 
drop,  whether  of  penitence,  thanksgiving,  or  anxiety. 
The  Father  never  rebuffs  such  eager  confidence.  To 
deny  that  holy  yearning,  to  bid  it  wait,  and  cautiously 
examine,  inspect,  and  analyze  itself  to  see  if  it  is  fit,  is 
only  to  throw  a  door  open  to  chilling  doubts  and  altered 
rnoods.  It  is  to  refuse  a  divine  call.  It  is  to  wrong  the 
soul's  friendliest  angel.  It  is  quenching  the  Holy  Spirit. 
How  are  we,  weak  children  of  vanity,  ever  to  be  thorough 
ly  renewed,  except  we  entreat  the  u  Spirit  that  helpeth  our 
infirmities  "  ?  Shall  we  despise  the  means,  expecting  to 
leap  miraculously  to  the  end  ?  Shall  we  wait,  before 
asking,  for  that  elevated  frame  of  the  soul,  which  only 
asking  obtains  ?  Let  no  such  sophistry  of  perverted 
theologies,  and  inverted  reason,  betray  us.  You  would 


36  ASKING    AND    RECEIVING. 

not  deem  it  wise,  nor  filial,  to  postpone  begging  your 
injured  mother's  forgiveness,  after  the  penitent  thought 
had  once  waked  in  your  breast,  till  your  mended  life  had 
quite  recompensed  for  your  disobedience,  or  till  her  love 
had  overcome  your  sullen  reluctance  by  violence.  Con 
fession  first,  peace  afterwards.  You  will  not  "  ask  "  too 
soon,  —  if  you  must  "  ask  "  before  it  is  given.  The  in 
stant  for  thee  to  enter  into  thy  closet  is  when  the  first 
thrill  of  repentant  sorrow  or  holy  faith  shoots  down  from 
above,  to  make  the  soul  mindful  of  its  immortal  destiny, 
and  its  account. 

I  have  spoken  of  praying  as  an  act  between  two  per 
sons,  man  and  God.  If  we  adhere  to  such  language  as  is 
used  in  the  text,  —  or  to  the  representation,  exactly  ac 
cording  with  this,  that  runs  through  the  whole  Bible,  — 
we  shall  wonder,  probably,  that  any  other  philosophy  of 
prayer  should  have  ever  come  into  vogue  in  Christendom, 
than  what  stands  out  so  plainly  in  this  simple  statement. 
Asking,  on  the  one  side,  and  giving,  in  answer  to  that  ask 
ing,  on  the  other,  would  seem  to  be  nearly  as  unmistakable 
an  account  of  a  direct  transaction  as  speech  is  capable  of 
composing.  Especially  would  it  appear  to  stand  clear 
of  all  possible  ambiguity,  when  we  remember  that  the 
whole  Revelation,  from  end  to  end  of  its  records,  offers 
no  hint  of  any  different  theory ;  that  it  was  precisely  in 
this  spirit,  and  with  this  understanding,  that  every  bibli 
cal  believer  prayed,  from  Adam  in  Eden  to  John  in  Pat- 
mos  ;  —  Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob,  all  patriarchs  speak 
ing  to  Jehovah,  and  answered  by  Him  ;  Moses,  Samuel, 
Elijah,  and  the  whole  line  of  valiant,  praying  prophets ; 
David,  whose  devotions  have  been  the  common  language 
of  worship  through  both  dispensations,  and  bear  to-day 
fresher  marks  of  perpetuity  than  when  his  own  tears  fell 


ASKING    AND    RECEIVING.  37 

upon  the  lines  he  wrote,  —  whose  petitions  were  account 
ed  worthy  to  be  taken  upon  the  lips  of  the  Redeemer 
himself  amidst  the  tortures  of  the  crucifixion;  the  dis 
ciples,  the  mother,  evangelists,  apostles,  —  all,  with  un 
divided  agreement,  asking  the  Father  for  what  their  soul 
craved,  and  receiving  at  God's  invisible  hand,  immedi 
ately,  blessings,  that,  but  for  such  asking,  could  not  have 
been  bestowed.  Not  a  doubt  hangs  over  a  phrase  of  the 
narrative.  The  witnesses  are  explicit.  There  are  placed 
before  us  two  parties.  One  is  just  as  literally  and  exact 
ly  a  person  as  the  other ;  the  divine  side  of  the  mutual 
transaction  involving  precisely  the  same  attributes  of 
personality  as  the  human,  —  no  hint  to  the  contrary ;  and 
—  mark  especially  —  the  fact  of  conscious  request  and 
conscious  compliance  every  way  as  distinct  —  the  differ 
ence  between  faith  and  sense  being  of  course  granted  — 
as  if  a  hand  were  visibly  stretched  out  on  one  side  open, 
and  were  visibly  filled  from  the  other. 

Now,  if  the  biblical  authority  did  not  settle  this  truth 
in  exactly  this  form,  falling  back  on  experience  some  of 
us  certainly  would  have  facts  to  produce,  which,  how 
ever  they  might  affect  sceptics,  must,  for  us,  for  ever 
place  the  literal  doctrine  of  asking  and  receiving  beyond 
all  misgiving,  as  the  only  possible  theory  of  prayer. 

Yet  into  such  labyrinths  of  confusion,  and  such  mazes 
of  perplexity,  has  theological  thinking  brought  itself,  that 
a  stark  rejection  of  this  doctrine  is  no  very  rare  phenom 
enon  in  modern  theology,  so  called.  Prayer,  instead  of 
that  distinct,  specific,  blessed  thing,  —  an  asking  for  the 
sake  of  receiving,  —  finding  its  clear  and  touching  image 
in  the  daily  beauty  saluting  all  our  eyes  of  the  confiding 
and  hearkening  communion  between  child  and  parent,  — 
instead  of  this,  it  is  —  what  shall  we  say  ?  or  rather,  what 

4 


38  ASKING    AND    RECEIVING. 

do  some  men  not  say  it  is  ?  —  a  convenient  name  for  al 
most  any  reputable  deed  or  any  innocent  state :  prayer  is 
want;  prayer  is  well-doing  or  well-wishing;  a  good  life 
is  prayer  :  to  work  morally  is  to  pray  ;  to  have  a  general 
sense  of  subjection  to  the  Infinite,  is  to  pray.  There  is 
no  enumerating  these  loose,  rhetorical,  paradoxical,  and 
superficial  definitions.  The  only  radical  feature  in  which 
they  are  all  agreed,  is  in  shading  off  prayer  into  some 
other  thing  that  is  not  prayer,  and  should  have  another 
name  ;  in  confounding  things  that  differ ;  in  destroying 
that  one  essential  ingredient  without  which  no  prayer 
can  be,  —  an  asking  on  the  part  of  man  for  a  granting 
on  the  part  of  God. 

There  is  one  abuse  of  the  term,  however,  that  takes  a 
different  shade,  and  lurks  under  specious  pretences.  It 
is  this,  —  that  what  we  call  prayer  is  nothing  but  a 
mode  of  self-excitation..  We  are  exhorted  to  take  the 
attitudes,  and  use  all  forms  and  words  of  prayer, — just 
as  if  what  the  act  pretends  were  really  true,  and  there 
were  literally  a  God  to  hear  and  answer,  only  because 
it  has  been  found  on  experiment  that  this  is  a  successful 
way  of  stirring  us  up  to  do  better.  We  exert  ourselves 
more,  and  so  are  more  blessed  by  Nature,  who  loves  to 
see  her  children  toil.  We  are  refreshed  by  making  our 
supplications  to  Heaven,  only  so  far  as  we  impose  on 
ourselves  the  trick  of  asking  of  a  God  what  man  is  just  as 
competent  to  give  himself.  It  might  seem  to  be  enough, 
with  single-minded  persons,  to  explode  this  heresy,  that 
it  inextricably  involves  a  duplicity,  —  such  a  one  as  to 
implicate  our  veneration  and  profane  worship,  —  insulting 
the  God  that  we  only  approach  in  a  rhetorical  device, 
and  pretend  to  pray  to  for  effect.  I  say  nothing  of  the 
impossibility  of  a  soul's  elevating  itself  above  itself,  with 


ASKING    AND    RECEIVING.  39 

no  purchase  outside  of  itself.  The  moral  objection  is 
enough.  The  error  only  illustrates  the  working  of  a  phi 
losophy  that  cuts  itself  loose  from  the  New  Testament. 
"  Ask,  and  it  shall  be  given  you."  It  is  enough  for  us  to 
pray  as  Jesus  prayed.  This  entangles  us  in  no  subtleties, 
and  freezes  us  with  no  negations.  It  takes  us  straight  to 
our  Father,  with  no  misgiving  that  he  veritably  hears  what 
we  pray.  This  places  the  object  of  our  religious  confi 
dence  beyond  ourselves,  and  so  clears  us  of  that  besetting 
sin  of  egotism,  which  is  as  destructive  of  church  life  as  it 
is  of  nobleness  of  character  and  personal  piety.  It  cen 
tres  faith  outside  this  narrow  region  of  self,  —  even  our 
better  self,  —  and  gives  assurance  and  comfort,  "  which 
only  he  that  feels  it  knows,"  by  hanging  every  circum 
stance  of  life,  the  most  minute  or  most  afflicting,  on  the 
direct  and  immediate  word  of  our  Lord,  in  whose  spirit 
we  are  embosomed,  in  whose  foresight  our  little  plans 
are  lost,  in  whose  hand  we  are  only  instruments,  moved 
hither  and  thither  as  he  will.  This  Christianizes  our 
prayers ;  for  it  makes  them  with  their  answers  that  veri 
table  communion,  that  literal  asking  and  receiving  be 
tween  the  soul  and  God,  which  is  as  strictly  personal  as 
the  petition  of  any  child  and  the  answer  of  any  parent,  — 
a  precious  praying,  —  real  praying,  —  the  Bible's  praying. 
At  this  point  another  question  has  been  sometimes 
started :  How  such  specific  answers  to  prayer  can  com 
port  with  the  regularity  of  Providence  and  the  govern 
ment  of  the  world  by  appointed  laws.  Unquestionably 
this  is  one  of  the  deep  secrets  passing  our  limited  knowl 
edge,  and  belonging  to  the  Infinite  Mind.  It  is  no  deeper, 
nor  harder  to  reconcile,  than  a  hundred  other  facts  in  the 
Divine  economy,  which  yet  we  must  admit,  or  deny  sense 
and  faith  both :  such,  for  example,  as  the  fact  that  we  are 


40  ASKING    AND    RECEIVING. 

all  free  to  choose  how  we  shall  act,  and  yet  are  com 
pletely  bound  in  the  hands  of  Omnipotence  ;  that  God  is 
almighty  and  all-good,  and  yet  leaves  his  children  liberty  to 
do  wrong.  These  are  transcendent  mysteries,  -simply  be 
cause  they  are  the  doings  of  a  transcendent  Being,  —  God. 
In  the  end,  we  shall  find,  I  suppose,  that  there  is  no  more 
contradiction  between  a  fixed  order  of  laws  and  special 
answers  to  our  asking,  than  there  is  between  a  general 
household  arrangement  for  their  children's  good,  on  the 
part  of  earthly  parents,  and  their  daily  favors  granted  in 
answer  to  particular  requests.  Through  all  this  stable 
and  mighty  system  of  irreversible  decrees,  —  laws  of 
growth  and  decay,  summer  and  winter,  evening  and 
morning,  centripetal  and  centrifugal  forces,  regimen  and 
health,  cause  and  consequence,  —  there  plays  for  ever  the 
silent  presence  of  God,  the  unrestricted  action  of  God's 
free  will.  So  has  he  built  the  world,  and  organized  its 
constitution.  The  balance  of  these  two  forces  —  Law 
and  Liberty  —  is  the  wonder  of  the  universe,  the  super 
nal  sign  set  upon  it.  Before  we  pray,  he  is  Love  itself; 
yet  he  hears  the  prayer,  and  sends  a  blessing  that  could 
not  have  come  without.  The  uniform  shelter  of  laws 
that  we  can  rely  upon  in  our  every-day  business  is  mer 
ciful  ;  and  so  are  those  direct,  impressive  tokens  of  his 
listening  spirit,  which  make  a  part  of  the  experience  of 
devout  souls  that  no  reasoning  can  take  away. 

This  care  extends  to  the  least  particle  of  creation,  —  to 
the  windings  of  a  worm,  as  much  as. to  the  circle  of  a 
planet ;  to  the  eyeball  of  a  fly,  as  much  as  to  the  splendor 
of  the  sun ;  to  your  lowly  path  each  morning  from  street 
to  street,  as  much  as  to  the  august  pilgrimage  of  Arctu- 
rus  along  the  "  streets  of  stars,"  or  to  the  rise  and  fall  of 
empires,  the  battle  that  captures  an  old  fortress,  or  the 


ASKING    AND    RECEIVING.  41 

reformation  that  liberates  nations.  Believing  this,  I  can 
no  more  hesitate  to  ask  a  Divine  direction  for  the  details 
of  my  common  life,  than  for  the  salvation  of  my  soul. 
Indeed,  do  we  not  know  that  the  salvation  of  the  soul  is 
nothing  else  than  the  safety  of  the  soul,  and  so  that  it  is 
bound  up  inextricably  with  these  very  familiar  incidents, 
—  their  effects  upon  the  soul,  and,  in  turn,  the  soul's  use  of 
them,  determining  its  salvation  or  its  perdition  ?  What 
companions  I  shall  be  thrown  among,  what  tasks  I  shall 
have  brought  me  to  do,  what  difficulties  I  shall  have  to 
encounter,  what  misunderstandings  and  consequent  alien 
ations  I  shall  be  rescued  from,  what  words  I  shall  be  in 
wardly  prompted  to  speak,  what  temptations  I  may  be 
spared  each  time  I  go  out  of  my  house  or  return  to  it,  — 
these,  and  all  the  class  of  events  they  belong  to,  are  the 
very  material  out  of  which  salvation  or  ruin  is  wrought ; 
and  so  they  are  fit  subjects  of  prayer.  They  are  things 
wherein  God  answers.  For  over  the  motions  of  heart  and 
mind  —  others  as  well  as  my  own  —  he  holds  an  unceas 
ing  control.  And  if  you  watch  the  history  of  almost  any 
hour,  you  will  see  many  junctures  in  it  where  two  ways 
parted  before  you,  and  the  choice  was  more  with  God  than 
yourself.  In  this  spirit,  and  with  this  faith,  a  Christian 
will  find  no  difficulty  in  asking  for  earthly  good.  If  he 
does  it  regarding  its  moral  connections  and  influences  on 
character,  it  is  lawful,  reverent  prayer;  such  prayer  as  was 
often  on  the  lips  of  righteous  men  of  old,  and  had  signal 
answers;  such  prayer  —  for  life,  health,  rain,  fruitful  sea 
sons —  as  James  enjoins,  citing  Elijah  as  an  example. 

The  mode  of  the  answer  rests  with  God.  If  he  sees  it 
will  strengthen  faith,  and,  taking  all  bearings  into  view, 
fulfil  his  will,  he  may  answer  it  directly,  according  to  the 
form  of  the  request.  If  he  sees  that  this  would  encourage 


42  ASKING    AND    RECEIVING. 

worldly-mindedness,  or  hinder  any  of  his  broader  purposes, 
he  will  send  a  secret  response  into  the  heart.  One  thing 
we  may  always  know  beforehand ;  if  the  earthly  advan 
tage  holds  a  higher  place  in  our  desires  than  spiritual  pu 
rity  or  God's  truth,  it  is  no  prayer  of  faith,  and  carries  in 
its  own  nature  the  forewarning,  that,  even  for  our  own 
sake,  we  must  be  denied. 

This  leads  in  the  last  great  feature  of  the  present  Doc 
trine  of  Devotion.  Every  asking  that  expects  to  receive 
must  be  an  asking  with  submission,  —  willing  to  wait 
long  before  receiving, — willing  to  be  utterly  refused. 
For  along  with  every  act  of  such  communion  goes  this 
attendant  truth,  never  to  be  forgotten,  —  that  it  is  mortal 
weakness,  ignorance,  and  imperfection  communing  with 
everlasting  Power,  boundless  Knowledge,  perfect  Holi 
ness.  No  doubt,  "  Lord,  I  believe,  help  thou  mine  unbe 
lief,"  is  a  right,  and  often  our  most  becoming  supplica 
tion  ;  and  some  confession  must  be  implied  in  every 
worship.  But  unless  we  can  feel,  while  we  are  asking, 
that  we  could  cheerfully  give  up  the  things  we  ask  for,  at 
God's  command,  I  suppose  we  are  not  in  the  true  atti 
tude  of  prayer.  This  must  be  that  spirit  of  believing,  or 
faith,  that  Christ  refers  to,  where  he  says,  "  Whatsoever 
ye  ask  believing^  ye  shall  receive."  Thomas  a  Kempis, 
who  seems  to  have  entered  farther  into  the  inmost  shrine 
of  devotion  than  any  writer  since  the  Apostle  John,  has 
this  passage :  —  "  Let  this  be  the  language  of  all  thy  re 
quests:  'Lord,  if  it  be  pleasing  to  thee,  may  this  be 
granted,  or  that  withheld;  but  if  thou  knowest  it  will  con 
duce  not  to  the  health  of  my  soul,  remove  far  from  me 
my  desire.  Give  me  what  thou  wilt,  and  in  what  meas 
ure,  and  at  what  time.  Place  me  where  thou  wilt,  and 
freely  dispose  of  me  in  all  things.  Do  thou  lead  and  turn 


ASKING    AND    RECEIVING.  43 

me  whithersoever  thou  pleasest.'  For,"  he  adds,  "  every 
desire  that  appeareth  to  man  to  be  right  and  good,  is  not 
born  from  heaven  ;  and  it  is  difficult  always  to  determine 
truly  whether  the  desire  is  prompted  by  the  good  spirit  of 
God,  or  thy  own  selfish  spirit."  I  have  known  devout 
persons  to  stand  year  after  year,  in  utter  wonder  that 
their  prayers,  so  reasonable  in  appearance,  brought  no 
visible  return  ;  yet  the  faith  that  came  at  last  out  of  that 
trial  and  proving,  in  a  furnace  seven  times  hotter  than 
fire,  "  more  precious  than  gold  that  perisheth,"  finally 
justified  such  patience  by  its  splendor. 

For,  even  while  we  wait,  through  all  the  breathings  of 
our  aspiration,  from  the  first  hesitating,  stammering  whis 
per  of  entreaty,  on  to  the  last  strong  syllable  of  praise 
when  faith  triumphs  over  the  failing  flesh,  —  prayer  is 
ever,  moment  by  moment,  its  own  sufficing  recompense. 
Its  words  do  react  on  your  soul  like  a  benediction.  Its 
every  struggle  is  a  consolation,  and  every  sigh  is  peace. 
It  puts  the  world  under  your  feet.  It  makes  all  things 
yours,  while  ye  are  Christ's  and  Christ  is  God's.  The 
spirit  comes  back  from  its  seasons  of  converse  with  God, 
into  the  strife  of  the  world,  its  interior  face  radiant  with 
a  veil  of  glory  like  that  Moses  wore  when  he  came  down 
from  the  mount.  Every  calamity  is  disenabled  to  agi 
tate,  and  every  cross  to  terrify  you.  You  say,  with  the 
brave  serenity  of  Paul:  "  What  can  separate  me  from  this 
unspeakable  joy  ?  Shall  tribulation,  or  famine,  or  sword  ? 
Shall  loss  of  goods,  or  pain,  or  bereavement  by  death  ? 
Nay,  in  all  these  things  we  are  more  than  conquerors ! ' 
The  very  intellectual  interest  that  will  be  shed  over  a  life 
where  this  mutual  interacting  of  prayer  and  fulfilment  so 
stimulates  the  soul,  rewards  the  understanding,  while  a 
far  profounder  and  holier  satisfaction  descends  into,  illu 
mines,  and  inspires  the  heart. 


44  ASKING    AND    RECEIVING. 

Not  for  ourselves  alone  are  these  heavenly  gifts  attain 
able,  but  by  one  for  another.  Intercession,  —  that  too 
often  neglected  privilege  of  prayer,  even  among  those  who 
have  learned  the  Christian  lessons,  —  intercession,  it  is 
the  divinest  gift  of  friendship.  By  its  celestial  ministry, 
conquering  all  distances,  the  thoughts  of  separated  spirits 
meet,  in  God.  When  patient  love,  in  its  reserve  or  its 
baffled  hope,  can  do  no  more,  it  can  ask  on  all  it  loves 
the  love  of  Christ.  When  ingratitude  makes  self-sacri 
fice  itself  helpless,  and  repulses  all  tenderness  with  malig 
nant  hate,  or  unconcern  almost  as  torturing,  Prayer  can 
still  watch,  and  guard,  and  supplicate,  and  weep ;  and 
(jrod  counts  its  tears.  Mothers  for  their  erring  sons ;  sis 
ters  for  their  falling  brothers  ;  companions  for  each  other ; 
believing  children  for  worldly  fathers ;  all  souls  for  all 
souls,  —  prayer  is  their  sure  refuge,  the  one  office  of 
affection  and  faith  that  no  indifference  can  deny. 

In  the  lives  of  the  Fathers  there  is  an  account  of  Abbot 
Lucius.  To  a  company  of  young  men  that  were  boast 
ing  how  they  prayed  continually,  but  never  worked,  he 
said  :  "  Not  so  ;  for  if  you  never  work,  then,  while  you 
eat  and  sleep,  you  neither  work  nor  pray.  I  will  show 
you  how  you  may  pray  continually.  I  am  not  ashamed 
to  labor  with  my  hands ;  and  while  I  work,  I  send  forth 
still,  between,  some  short  petitions  to  my  gracious  God. 
When  I  have  some  quantity  of  finished  work,  I  give 
away  about  a  third  thereof  to  the  poor.  And  now,  these 
poor  men  praying  for  me  while  I  eat  or  sleep,  through 
them  I  pray  without  ceasing." 

Over  every  day?s  life,  let  us  write  the  twofold  inscrip 
tion,  —  "  Not  slothful  in  business  "  ;  and  "  Continuing 
instant  in  prayer." 


SERMON     IV. 

THE  SOUL'S  SEAECH. 

SEEK,  AND  YE   SHALL   FIND. — Matt.  vii.  7. 

AN  intelligent  criticism  has  often  pointed  it  out  as  one 
of  the  secrets  of  moral  impression,  as  well  as  of  rhetori 
cal  effect,  that  the  true  power  of  eloquence  may  be  al 
most  as  strikingly  displayed  in  what  is  omitted  from  a 
discourse  as  in  its  contents.  That  is  to  say,  an  orator 
may  accomplish  his  persuasion  as  well  by  knowing  what 
to  leave  out  as  what  to  put  in.  Of  course,  this  skill  pre 
supposes  a  wise  acquaintance  with  the  structure  of  lan 
guage,  and  its  relations  to  thought,  a  delicate  perception 
of  the  laws  of  association,  and  the  knowledge  how  to 
make  what  is  said  suggest  that  richer  part  of  wisdom 
which  must  for  ever  remain  unsaid.  But  whatever  we 
may  think  of  the  maxim  as  a  judgment  on  the  art  of  ex 
pression,  it  certainly  refers  to  a  great  and  yet  a  simple 
fact  in  our  spiritual  economy.  It  might  be  shown,  ] 
think,  that  there  are  omissions  in  the  New  Testament 
more  spiritually  significant  than  any  speech  out  of  it. 
An  example  occurs  in  this  passage.  The  Son  of  God 
says  to  the  world,  "  Seek,  and  ye  shall  find."  He  does 
not  there  tell  us  what  we  are  to  seek.  It  is  enough  that 
he  urges  us,  with  such  condensed  concern,  to  seek,  —  for 


46 

we  shall  find.  What  the  object  of  this  ceaseless  and 
infinite  quest  shall  be,  —  so  far  as  the  immediate  lan 
guage  goes,  —  is  left  sublimely  unuttered.  In  this  case, 
as  in  many  of  the  utterances  that  break  the  most  solemn 
pauses,  and  declare  the  grandest  truths,  the  unmen- 
tioned  thing  is  the  supreme  thing.  Precisely  because 
there  is  but  one  word  that  can  fill  the  blank,  no  word  is 
needed. 

Observe  now  how  impressive  the  inevitable  inference. 
It  is  like  saying  that  the  one  true  search  of  man  can  have 
but  one  object,  —  God.  What  it  is  to  find  God,  we  may 
try  to  state  in  different  forms  of  words.  But  they  must 
all  have  one  meaning.  To  live  daily  under  the  con 
scious  inspiration  and  guidance  of  his  Spirit,  is  to  find 
him.  To  believe  in  Christ,  provided  that  belief  em 
braces  practice  as  well  as  faith,  and  engages  the  affections 
as  well  as  the  intellect,  —  which  it  must  do  if  it  is  living 
and  sincere,  —  this  is  to  find  God;  because  God  is  in 
Christ.  To  keep  a  conscious  harmony  of  one's  own  will 
with  God's  will,  so  as  to  gain  spiritual  liberty,  patient 
submission,  is  to  find  him.  To  blend  justice  and  mercy 
toward  man  with  prayer,  is  to  find  him.  To  live  so  tlmt 
the  ruling  aim,  or  uppermost  purpose,  shall  be  under  the 
constant  control  of  the  principles  of  Christianity,  is  to 
find  him.  To  be  spiritually-minded,  and  so  discern  spir 
itual  things,  is  to  find  him.  Of  course,  then,  to  be  really 
seeking  any  of  these  things,  —  which,  after  all,  are  essen 
tially  the  same  thing,  —  is  to  seek  God. 

But  in  the  fact  that  Jesus  does  not  specify  in  words 
what  we  are  to  seek,  we  may  find  this  truth  hidden ; 
namely,  that  if  you  once  fairly  bring  yourself  to  the  in 
quiry  what  you  shall  seek,  with  a  resolve  to  seek  it,  you 
can  come  to  but  one  reasonable  answer.  There  is  only 


47 
/ 

one  aim  large  enough,  and  noble  enough,  to  satisfy  your 
soul's  hunger,  when  you  make  a  fair,  free,  deliberate  de 
cision.  I  believe  that,  if  we  could  all  see  how  we  choose, 
when  we  hesitate  between  God  and  Mammon,  we  must 
choose  aright ;  especially  if  the  choice  is  made  before  a 
corrupt  habit  has  hardened  the  wrong  growth,  and  stif 
fened  the  twist  of  sin  into  a  permanent  deformity,  and 
partially  crippled  the  will.  Really  and  reasonably  to 
choose,  will  be  to  choose  for  eternal  life  over  the  loss  of 
it.  That  glorious  necessity  God  has  wrought  into  the 
very  texture  of  our  being,  —  a  bright  and  everlasting  wit 
ness  of  his  own  truth.  Otherwise,  reason  is  a  mockery, 
the  invitations  of  Heaven  are  a  dismal  satire  on  our  help 
lessness,  and  our  very  nature  is  a  fallacy. 

What  shall  we  conclude,  then,  looking  at  mankind  as 
they  are,  but  that  many  of  them  have  not  fairly  chosen  ? 
When  you  see  a  life  whose  inmost  motive  is  clearly  self 
ishness,  and  whose  whole  face  is  stripped  of  every  im 
press  of  the  sense  of  spiritual  obligation,  you  may  safely 
say  that  life  has  never  passed  under  any  experience  that 
deserved  to  be  called  a  choice.  No  doubt  it  has  a  direc 
tion,  and  a  motion.  So  has  every  vessel  that  floats 
adrift.  We  live  on  waters  that  are  never  at  a  dead  calm. 
If  we  neither  sail  nor  row,  we  are  driven.  But  such  a 
man  either  follows  the  current  that  the  world's  fashion 
has  set,  or  is  the  plaything  of  gusty  appetites.  He  has 
not  grasped  the  helm  in  the  hand  of  a  strong,  individual, 
and  morally  independent  will,  conquering  at  once  the  tide 
of  social  example  and  the  caprices  of  his  own  passion. 
He  has  not  lifted  his  look  to  the  immortal  lights  that 
burn  fixed  and  serene  in  the  sky,  and  laid  his  course  by 
then*  heavenly  admonition.  Who  shall  measure  the 
guilt  of  that  wretched  refusal  to  choose  ? 


48 

i 

Some  kinds  of  election  such  men  have  undoubtedly 
made.  They  have  chosen,  perhaps,  which  one  of  the 
many  modes  of  self-enrichment  or  self-gratification  they 
will  take.  They  have  chosen  the  path  and  the  scene  of 
their  property-search,  or  their  pleasure-search.  They  have 
chosen  whether  they  will  be  rich  by  one  set  of  tools  or 
another,  —  by  dry  goods,  or  hard-ware,  or  jewelry,  or 
stocks,  —  by  a  hammer  and  chisel,  or  a  plough.  They 
have  chosen  whether  they  will  be  famous  at  the  bar,  or 
in  the  medical  faculty,  or  in  a  pulpit,  or  in  Congress. 
They  have  chosen  whether  they  will  get  gain  in  New 
York  or  Boston,  San  Francisco  or  Calcutta.  Have  they 
chosen  between  self-service  and  God's  service  ?  Have 
they  chosen  whether  their  property  shall  be  got  accord 
ing  to  the  New  Testament,  or  according  to  the  Satanic 
text-book  of  expediency  ?  Have  they  chosen  whether 
their  chief  pleasure  shall  be  that  of  a  luxurious  table  and 
the  pride  of  a  handsome  establishment,  or  the  pleasure 
of  blessing  their  fellows  and  feeling  the  beat  of  a  satisfied 
heart  ?  Have  they  chosen  whether,  by  whatever  instru 
ments,  in  whatever  city  or  village  or  country,  through 
whatever  calling,  with  fortune  or  without,  admired  or 
neglected,  courted  or  despised,  they  will  be  brave  for  the 
right,  and  carry  out  of  the  world  a  conscience  undefiled  ? 
In  one  phrase,  have  they  chosen  —  have  you  chosen  — 
between  the  servile  obedience  to  interests  that  all  termi 
nate  in  earthly  comfort,  and  the  nobility  of  a  character 
upright  before  all  men,  bending  with  humble  devotion 
only  before  God,  rich  in  good  works,  a  disciple  of  Christ  ? 
Is  there  one  among  us  all  that  hesitates  an  instant  which 
he  ought  to  choose,  if  he  choose  at  all  ?  How  true  is  it, 
then,  that  where  our  spiritual  safety  is  perilled,  it  is  not 
so  much  that  we  do  not  come  to  the  true  life  when  our 


49 

faces  have  once  been  turned  to  seek  for  it,  as  that  we  do 
not  turn  them  to  seek  for  it !  The  one  primary,  funda 
mental,  underlying  question  is  the  question  we  have  left 
unsettled.  Seek,  really  seek,  and  ye  shall  find. 

Christian  faith  is  the  most  appropriate  action  of  the 
soul ;  and  the  way  of  a  righteous  life,  as  it  is  thrown 
open  by  the  Son  of  God,  is  the  answer  of  Heaven  to  the 
soul's  wants.  Now  if  this  be  true ;  if  the  heart  of  man 
wants  the  Gospel  as  much  as  the  body  wants  food,  and 
is  the  organ  of  holy  feeling ;  if  the  spiritual  atmosphere  of 
religious  belief  and  principle  is  as  exactly  and  beautifully 
fitted  to  our  inward  life,  as  the  outward  air  is  to  the 
lungs,  or  light  to  the  eye ;  and  if  every  irreligious  person 
is  out  ornature,  disordered  and  disorderly,  a  morbid  and 
abnormal  creature,  till  he  stands  in  reconciliation  with 
his  Maker,  —  then  the  seeking  for  the  way  must  be  the 
foremost  concern  of  all  health-desiring  and  rational  souls. 
How  to  find  and  keep  it  is  the  simple  question,  beside 
which  all  the  decoration  and  ambition  of  our  material  es 
tate,  all  dress  and  bargaining,  ah1  opulence  and  office, 
even  ah1  learning  and  accomplishments  of  the  mind,  are 
humbled  into  secondary  things. 

I  said  secondary.  I  ought  to  use  some  stronger  word. 
The  distinction  is  more  than  one  of  degrees.  The  alter 
native  between  a  life  taking  its  law  from  Heaven  and  a 
life  taking  its  law  from  any  of  the  forms  of  self-interest, 
—  ranging  as  these  forms  do  over  all  grades  of  guilt  and 
shame,  from  the  beastly  sensuality  that  eats  and  drinks 
and  lusts,  all  the  more  reckless  to-day  because  its  to-mor 
row  looks  so  ghastly,  on  to  the  passion  for.  power  and 
splendor  which  is  the  "last  infirmity  of  noble  minds," 
but  none  the  less  'ungodly  because  it  is  the  last,  —  this 
alternative  is  always  the  simple  one  between  piety  and 


50 

atheism.  We  cannot  keep  a  deity  that  shall  simply  wait 
on  our  table,  or  whisper  to  us  beforehand  the  favorable 
chances  of  a  speculation.  There  are  no  wages,  whether 
occasional  attendance  at  a  sanctuary,  or  any  other  pro 
fessions,  that  can  suborn  Providence  into  a  skilful  stew 
ard  and  butler,  or  an  intelligent  foreign  correspondent 
to  keep  you  advised  of  commercial  prospects.  God  must 
have  the  heart  or  nothing,  —  and  have  its  direct  loyalty 
and  love,  or  none  that  is  accepted.  He  looks  in  to  see 
which  way  the  inmost  spirit  kneels,  —  and  not  Sunday 
only,  but  all  days,  —  whether  towards  the  Father  of 
Righteousness,  or  some  idol  of  the  popular  admiration. 
He  lifts  the  folds  that  are  plaited  so  cunningly  over  our 
inmost  selves,  and  judges  what  that  inner  rule  is  by 
which  we  refuse  or  accept  bribes  from  the  hand  of  man  or 
woman,  by  which  we  do  or  scorn  to  do  an  unclean  deed. 
So  that,  in  reality,  the  difference  between  seeking  God, 
and  seeking  him  not,  is  something  more  than  a  relative 
or  comparative  difference.  It  is  absolute  and  decisive. 
It  supposes  a  distinct  centre  of  attraction,  and  so  another 
sort  of  life ;  what  the  New  Testament  calls  a  "  new 
man."  You  may  ascend  from  the  flattest  plain  to  the 
adjoining  hill,  from  the  hill  to  the  loftier  table-land,  from 
that  to  the  proud  range  that  puts  its  snowy  shoulder 
against  the  arch  of  blue,  and  up  still  from  that  to  the  sol 
itary  and  imperial  peak  that  seems  to  soar  quite  through 
the  sky,  but  still  you  remain  a  citizen  of  the  earth,  and 
your  climbing  feet  are  held  fast  by  the  old  gravitation. 
It  is  not  till  you  spring  over  to  another  planet  that  you 
are  clear  of  the  sublunary  imprisonment,  and  become  an 
inhabitant  of  the  heavens.  Now  God  is  willing  that  our 
home  should  be  "on  this  world ;  places  are  nothing ;  he  even 
offers  to  send  heaven  down  to  us.  But  the  heart  must 


THE    SOUL'S    SEARCH.  51 

confess  to  an  attraction  from  beyond  the  little  globe  of 
self.  We  "  cast  anchor  upwards."  "  No  man  ever  went 
to  heaven  whose  heart  was  not  there  before  him."  If 
we  would  u  find  "  the  life  eternal,  we  must  "  seek  "  some 
thing  better  than  the  best  kind  of  material  good. 

All  our  life  is  a  search.  We  are  a  race  of  seekers. 
The  eyes  planted  in  the  front  of  the  head  are  a  symbol 
of  our  inquisitive  constitution.  With  some  of  us  the 
aim  is  consciously  taken,  is  clear,  is  fixed,  and  embraces, 
in  one,  the  perfecting  of  character  and  the  glory  of  God. 
These,  call  them  by  whatever  name,  of  whatever  sect  or 
no  sect,  of  whatever  nation  or  rank,  are  the  men  that 
God  loves  and  honors.  They  are  the  saints,  modern  or 
ancient ;  ^s  good  if  they  walk  our  streets  to-day,  as  if 
they  held  sweet  counsel  with  Fenelon  in  Cambray,  or 
knelt  with  St.  Cecilia,  or  wept  with  Paul  on  the  shore 
at  Miletus.  And  because  they  find  the  Christ  the  only 
way  unto  the  Father,  they  are  the  true  Church  of  the 
living  Lord.  All  of  us,  I  hope,  have  been  privileged  to 
know  such. 

Then  there  are  others  who  seek  nothing  so  noble, 
nothing  so  generous,  nothing  so  holy.  They  seek  how 
much  they  can  call  their  own,  by  whatever  means,  —  of' 
how  much  benefit  they  can  hold  a  monopoly,  from  how 
large  a  place  in  God's  universe  they  can  keep  other  men 
off,  and  how  much  envy  they  can  rouse  in  rivals  and 
neighbors.  These  have  never  mastered  their  baser  and 
greedier  instincts,  and  so  have  never  known  the  divine 
joy  of  being  blessed  for  their  benefactions,  and  have 
never  tasted  of  the  peace  that  passeth  understanding. 
Very  often  God  punishes  us,  by  letting  us  have  what  we 
seek.  And  so  such  persons  seem  to  succeed.  Men  of 
that  stamp  are  affluent  and  respected ;  or  rather,  the  ac- 


52 

cessories,  under  which  the  man  is  concealed,  are  respected. 
It  requires  a  spiritual  judgment  to  uncover  their  empti 
ness,  and  show  how  real  ruin  is  compatible  with  appar 
ent  success. 

There  are  none,  I  suppose,  who  can  be  said  literally  to 
seek  nothing ;  but  there  are  those  —  and  these,  too,  you 
have  seen  —  who  come  so  near  to  that,  that  no  man,  look 
ing  on,  can  guess  what  it  is  they  seek.  The  aims  are  so 
minute  and  so  variable  as  not  to  be  easily  detected,  — 
one  thing  this  morning,  another  this  evening,  all  trifling, 
and  all  ineffectual.  Find  what  the  magnet  is  that  draws 
each  one  on,  and  you  have  discovered  his  character. 
His  supreme  desire  fixes  his  value.  To  know  what  he 
seeks  is  to  know  what  manner  of  man  he  is,  better  than 
by  knowing  in  what  way  he  seeks  it :  just  as  you  can  judge 
a  traveller's  destination  better  by  seeing  which  way  his 
face  is  set,  than  by  observing  his  mode  of  conveyance. 

To  the  seekers  of  mere  material  and  selfish  comfort, 
one  serious  consideration  is  presented  by  the  progress  of 
history.  That  kind  of  search  is  sinking.  Every  new 
day  that  breaks  into  the  sky  degrades  it ;  both  because 
new  lights  are  stationed  about  it,  in  our  educational  and. 
industrial  wakefulness,  to  show  its  shame,  and  because 
the  practical  tendencies  of  the  time  force  upon  material 
ism  a  more  and  more  hard  and  sottish  character.  In 
more  imaginative  periods,  romance  threw  about  idolatry 
at  least  the  graces  of  fancy,  and  made  it  poetical.  Now 
it  is  either  shrewd  or  stolid.  It  is  the  idolatry  of  the 
arithmetic,  the  stock-list,  and  the  palate  ;  not  of  fable 
and  heroism.  The  noblest  element  has  vanished.  It  is 
bare  gluttony.  If  you  are  going  to  worship  the  animal, 
then  return  to  the  inventions  of  Egyptian  and  Grecian 
genius,  —  "  the  fair  humanities  of  old  religion."  Give 


53 

us  back  at  least  the  simplicity  of  feticism  with  its  sen 
suality.  Rebuild  the  Pantheon.  Relight  the  fires  on 
Pagan  altars.  Repeople  the  woods  with  dryads,  and  the 
waters  with  nymphs.  Anything,  rather  than  the  gross 
surfeit  of  appetite,  and  the  clinking  creed  of  dollars! 
And  if  you  cannot  do  that,  take  it  as  a  sober  hint  that 
God's  providence  does  not  mean  to  have  materialists  in 
the  world  at  all.  Seek  something  worthier  of  your  hu 
manity.  Seek  a  larger  and  purer  spirit  from  the  Father, 
who  grants  such  gifts  by  his  Son,  and  ye  shall  find. 

In  the  text  there  is  a  task  enjoined,  and  there  is  a 
promise  published.  The  task  is  for  man  ;  the  promise  is 
from  God. 

The  task  is  for  man.  Seeking  is  a  labor.  We  are 
cast  upon  our  faculties.  Faith  itself  is  not  passive. 
Why  is  that  pearl  of  great  price,  a  Christian  character, 
concealed  behind  so  many  counterfeits  that  glitter,  and 
perplexities  that  hinder,  if  not  to  stimulate  our  zeal  in 
seeking  it  ?  Self-denial  is  a  part  of  that  search.  So  is 
drudgery,  familiar  as  our  own  hands.  So  is  patience 
under  contradiction,  and  the  crucifixion  of  pride.  If  a 
young  man  asks  me  how  he  shall  be  a  Christian  in  the 
midst  of  the  sorceries  of  politics,  the  temptations  of  mer 
chandise,  and  the  profligacy  of  convivial  manners,  and  yet 
is  not  willing  to  brace  himself  against  the  reproof  or  ridi 
cule  of  his  elders  and  the  blandishments  of  seducing 
companions,  to  begin  every  day  with  Bible  and  prayer, 
and  even  to  persevere  through  loss  of  income,  I  only 
remind  him  of  another  young  man  who  had  it  said  to 
him,  "  How  hardly  shall  they  that  have  riches  enter  into 
the  kingdom  of  Heaven,"  because  he  was  not  equal  to 
the  sacrifice.  And  if  a  distressed  spirit  in  woman, 
scourged  by  the  pain  of  doubt,  or  entreated  by  the  Holy 


54 

Spirit,  inquires  for  the  way  of  life,  and  yet  will  not  bend 
her  vanity  or  her  self-reliance  lowly  at  her  Redeemer's 
feet,  I  remind  her  of  the  sister  that  was  more  careful  and 
troubled  to  display  her  hospitality  to  Jesus,  than  to  give 
up  all,  and  put  her  heart  into  the  Saviour's  hand,  and  sit 
satisfied  with  his  love.  These  do  not  truly  seek,  and 
cannot  find. 

The  promise  is  from  God.  Seek,  and  ye  shall  find. 
Was  a  Divine  promise  ever  broken  or  forgotten  ?  There 
is  a  secret  misgiving,  or  uncertainty,  whether  a  thorough 
consecration,  a  righteous  character,  will  bring  the  peace, 
or  strength,  or  glory,  which  the  Almighty  has  engaged  it 
shall.  I  believe  Christian  people  themselves  do  not  duly 
weigh  the  affront  of  distrusting  God's  pledges.  We 
deem  it  an  insult  to  doubt  man's  word,  yet  discredit 
the  Unchangeable's.  The  loss  is  double.  We  dwarf 
the  proportions  of  our  own  goodness.  We  alienate  the 
blessing  that  falls  only  on  believers.  So  seek  eternal 
life,  then,  as  those  that  know  they  shah1  find  it. 

You  know  the  ways  and  the  helps  of  this  seeking. 
They  are  fixed  and  definite  as  the  rules  for  any  human 
attainment.  They  are  studious  and  self-examining 
meditation,  the  exclusion  from  the  heart  of  conflicting 
affections,  a  daily  intimacy,  through  the  record,  with  the 
perfect  Christ  and  the  whole  body  of  Revelation,  prayers 
as  punctual  as  the  sun,  the  dashing  away  of  that  one 
dear  dark  idol  which  stands  between  almost  every  heart 
and  the  light  of  Heaven,  and  the  faithful  applying  of  the 
spirit  of  holiness  given  straight  from  God  to  one  district 
after  another  of  the  practical  territory  of  experience. 
Was  there  ever  one  who  so  sought,  and  did  not  find  ? 

Do  not  say  the  object  of  this  infinite  and  immortal 
search  is  vague  or  obscure ;  and  that  you  do  not  know 


55 

what  to  seek,  because  the  precept  does  not  define  it.  As 
well  say  you  do  not  know  where  the  upward  look  of  the 
pleading  and  weeping  eye  of  the  Magdalen  is  directed, 
because  the  Master's  form  is  not  painted  on  the  canvas 
above  her  head.  As  well  wonder  why  the  name  of  the 
Unnamable,  to  whom  the  vast  dome  is  reared,  and 
whose  silent  praise  every  arch  and  pillar  speaks,  is  not 
stamped  in  gilded  letters  on  the  front  of  St.  Peter's. 
There  are  meanings  at  once  so  plain  and  so  august,  that 
to  encase  them  in  syllables  is  to  belittle  their  dignity. 
The  design  of  the  whole  framework  of  your  human  being 
is  as  evidently  God's  worship,  as  that  of  the  cathedral. 
Know  ye  not  that  ye  are  the  temple  of  God  ?  And  yet 
what  proportion  of  the  souls  passing  forward  to  man's 
estate  and  dangers  and  duties  in  this  Christian  com 
munity,  what  proportion  of  the  young  men  that  enter 
Christian  sanctuaries,  have  seized  on  the  grand  purpose 
so  manifestly  held  out  to  them  ?  have  taken  a  religious 
stand,  —  I  do  not  say  before  men,  but  before  them 
selves,  —  and  so  determined  their  lives  towards  the  glo 
rious  end  ?  The  question  is  not  put  querulously,  nor  as 
from  a  pulpit's  formality,  but  as  from  one  erring  man  to 
his  fellows,  in  a  common  need  of  strength.  Character, 
spirituality,  righteousness,  is  the  end.  Christ  is  the  way. 
"  Seek,  and  ye  shall  find." 

There  is  something  in  this  inspiriting  call  for  every 
stage  of  our  spiritual  progress.  The  youngest  child  that 
hears  me  is  not  too  young  to  be  a  seeker  under  Christ, 
for  Christ  took  younger  children  into  his  arms.  The 
maturest  manhood  or  saintliest  womanhood  among  you 
ought  to  be  seeking  still,  and  for  ever  seeking,  —  because 
the  best  are  weak,  truth  is  boundless,  and  the  highest 
soul  stands  at  an  infinite  remove  from  God.  They  that 


56 

have  not  yet  steadfastly  set  their  faces  as  though  they 
would  go  up  higher,  are  encouraged  and  solicited.  They 
that  have  gone  some  way  are  bidden  to  press  on.  They 
that  have  mastered  the  worst  enemies  are  cheered  for 
ward  to  be  more  than  conquerors  through  Him  who  hath 
loved  them,  —  whose  face  they  have  beheld,  whose  breath 
they  have  felt.  Nor  is  it  said  to  one  of  them  more  than 
to  another,  "  Seek,  and  ye  shall  find." 

From  all  the  fountains  of  religious  feeling,  whose  liv 
ing  waters  leap  as  if  an  angel  troubled  them,  —  from  all 
trees  of  wise  thought,  whose  leaves  are  for  the  healing  of 
the  nations,  —  from  all  the  lights  in  the  starry  heavens  of 
the  elder  time,  the  ages  of  faith,  —  from  the  spirits  about 
us,  on  the  right  and  the  left,  purer  and  calmer  than  our 
own,  and  shaming  our  uncertain  steps,  —  from  our  own 
failures  and  mortifications,  —  from  prayer  and  commun 
ion,  from  Bible  and  Providence,  from  Church  and  life,  — 
above  all,  direct  from  that  mighty  and  loving  heart  of 
Jesus,  out  of  which  flows  the  spirit  without  measure,  —  let 
us  continually  and  faithfully  seek,  —  seek  summit  above 
summit  of  gracious  attainment,  —  seek  depth  below 
depth  of  God's  unfathomable  love.  So  shall  we  not  lose 
the  way,  and  miss  our  Father's  house,  nor  come  halting 
and  maimed  there,  but  erect  and  healthful  souls,  save  as 
we  are  bended  in  gratitude  at  the  mercy  that  forgives,  in 
penitence  for  the  sins  to  be  forgiven,  and  in  reverence  at 
the  vision  of  Him  who  makes  his  people  whole. 


S  E  B,  M  O  N     V. 

THE  SOUL'S  COEONATION. 

THE   LIFE    IS    MORE    THAN   MEAT.  —  Luke  xii.  23. 
YOUR   REASONABLE    SERVICE.  —  Rom.  xii.  1. 


drawn  the  two  members  of  the  text  together, 
out  of  their  separate  places  in  the  New  Testament,  as 
they  proceeded  from  the  lips  of  Jesus  and  the  pen  of 
Paul,  because  the  precise  thought  by  which  I  wish  to 
direct  my  discourse  is  more  clearly  brought  out  by  their 
combination  than  by  any  single  passage.  The  com 
pound  force  of  the  two  phrases  is  this  :  to  keep  the  claims 
and  the  interests  of  the  spiritual  nature  in  us  paramount 
over  all  other  claims  and  all  other  interests,  is  to  act 
according  to  the  strictest  rule  of  what  is  reasonable. 

Paramount,  for  in  the  divine  economy  of  our  constitu 
tion  there  is  unquestionably  an  order  of  preferments.  No 
human  society  has  ever  adjusted  its  ranks,  nor  any  gov 
ernment  allotted  its  privileges,  according  to  that  heavenly 
gradation,  because  no  legislature  has  ever  fully  copied 
its  principle,  and  no  community  has  embodied  its  spirit. 
But  God  has  distributed  creation  in  a  series  of  ascending 
honors.  Christianity,  his  interpreter,  tells  us  how  they 
range  and  where  they  culminate.  That  uncrowned  and 
often  unacknowledged  king,  the  human  soul,  stands  nev- 


58 

ertheless  the  native  and  hereditary  sovereign  of  our  mor 
tal  estate.  We  may  rob  it  of  its  titles  ;  we  may  trample 
its  royalty  under  the  feet  of  our  passions  ;  we  may  fill  its 
throne  with  those  vile  usurpers,  our  sensual  desires ;  yet 
through  all  abuses,  through  ages  of  treachery  and  malfea 
sance,  the  soul  waits,  pleading  its  inborn  majesty,  assert 
ing  its  divine  pedigree,  appealing  to  its  parentage  in 
God,  showing  its  inalienable  and  immortal  right  to  rule, 
and  expecting  its  final  coronation.  "  The  life  is  more 
than  meat."  Through  the  inspiration  of  the  spirit,  the 
seat  of  this  life  is  the  soul.  There  is  the  centre  of  all 
movement,  the  spring  of  power,  the  point  of  intense 
concern.  All  greatness  proceeds  thence.  All  well-di 
rected  anxieties  converge  thither.  Blind  as  we  become 
to  the  magnificent  fact,  whatever  interests  agitate  mar 
kets  and  families  and  states,  —  whatever  influences  play 
through  street,  shop,  congress,  the  academy  and  college, 
no  less  than  the  Church,  —  terminate  at  last  in  the 
soul.  For  that,  in  the  original  design,  however  we  as 
individuals  pervert  or  come  short  of  it,  the  farmer's 
tillage  rears  and  reaps  the  summer's  grain  on  all  the 
quiet  meadows  and  slopes ;  for  that  the  arms  of  labor 
swing  in  ten  thousand  workshops  ;  for  that  the  printing- 
press  is  worked  and  types  are  cast ;  for  that,  at  last,  if 
the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  is  true,  the  lily  blossoms  and 
the  sparrow  flies.  Institutions  are  founded,  whether  their 
founders  remember  it  or  not,  statute-books  are  written, 
cities  are  built,  new  countries  are  colonized,  factories 
occupy  the  streams,  exploring  expeditions  animate  the 
commercial  map  of  the  world,  for  the  soul.  It  is  not, 
after  all,  for  the  fortunes  that  are  made,  the  fabrics 
woven,  the  speed  attained,  the  money  multiplied,  the 
world' s-f airs  exhibited.  These  are  only  means  to  an  end ; 


59 

and  that  end  is  man's  spiritual  education.  By  far  the 
deepest  question  you  can  ask  respecting  any  of  these 
mighty  agencies  is,  What  kind  of  souls  is  it  helping  to 
rear  ?  what  sort  of  characters  is  it  fashioning  ?  Is  it  leav 
ing  men  with  a  larger  or  leaner  humanity,  with  a  purer  or 
weaker  piety  ?  And  the  most  momentous  question  any 
individual  can  put  to  himself,  respecting  all  these  forms 
of  outward  activity  and  acquisition,  is  the  old  evan 
gelical  and  personal  one,  —  "  What  shall  it  profit  a  man, 
though  he  gain  the  whole  world  and  lose  his  soul  ?  " 
"  The  life  is  more  than  meat." 

I  need  not  tell  you  how  apt  the  immediate  operators 
of  all  this  vast  enterprise  are  to  forget  its  real  import. 
In  their  eagerness  to  keep  the  machinery  in  motion,  and 
to  harvest  its  tangible  rewards,  they  overlook  its  grandest 
purpose.  The  men  who  flatter  themselves  they  manage 
these  gigantic  forces,  fail,  how  often !  to  discern  the  final 
object  of  such  a  splendid  apparatus.  They  practically 
invert  the  true  saying ;  they  act  as  if  the  meat  were  more 
than  the  life.  Colonizers  of  Melbourne  and  San  Fran 
cisco  fancy  the  only  office  of  those  gates  to  golden  pal 
aces  is  to  open  avenues  for  worldly  ambition  to  stride 
through  more  ambitiously  ;  while  God  would  make  them 
theatres  for  the  development,  hereafter,  of  nobler  speci 
mens  of  moral  beauty.  Some  man  of  science  comes 
among  us  and  expounds  the  mysteries  of  Arctic  navi 
gation.  Avaricious  eyes  see  nothing  in  this  penetrat 
ing  of  Polar  oceans  but  an  enlargement  of  the  sphere 
of  traffic,  or  a  new  facility  for  transportation  ;  but  Provi 
dence  is  only  getting  the  earth  ready,  from  pole  to  pole, 
for  the  discipline  of  righteous  men  and  the  triumph  of 
Christian  truth.  So  the  individual  merchant  may  think 
only  of  the  luxury  of  riches,  and  the  politician  only  of  the 


60 

emoluments  of  office ;  but  none  the  less,  under  all  their 
selfish  schemes,  live  on  the  everlasting  will  and  sublime 
design  of  Almighty  God.  In  every  wonderful  discovery 
of  the  age,  the  deepest  wonder  is  the  part  it  is  yet  to  be 
made  to  play  in  redeeming  the  earth  from  wrong  and 
purifying  it  from  sin.  The  brains  that  contrive,  as  well 
as  the  capital  that  equips  and  the  governments  that 
organize,  these  forth-putting  expeditions  which  pry  into 
all  the  territory  and  treasure  of  the  globe,  are  only  ser 
vants  of  a  vaster  Power  behind  them,  —  the  pages  and 
messengers,  the  waiting-men  and  operatives,  of  the  Eter 
nal  Providence  that  will  have  mankind  for  his  own.  The 
end  of  all  this  labor  and  thought  is  to  bring  men's  souls 
into  harmony  with  God,  through  their  resemblance  to 
Christ.  One  day,  as  sure  as  that  Saviour's  prophecy 
that  his  kingdom  shall  come,  this  human  soul  shall  ap 
pear  in  its  renewed  glory,  in  a  perfected  humanity,  and 
enter  in  and  take  possession  of  the  heritage  which 
.all  this  selfish  enterprise  and  this  material  civilization 
have  unconsciously  prepared,  "  building  better  than  they 
knew." 

Meantime  what  we,  humble  toilsmen  at  our  several 
obscure  posts,  need  to  do  to  make  us  faithful  servants  of 
this  reformation,  is  to  take  back  our  eyes  from  this  wide 
prospect,  and  find  out  how  the  same  great  law  —  that 
spiritual  life  deserves  more  study,  effort,  and  prayer,  with 
every  one  of  us,  than  all  external  interests  —  is  to  be  ap 
plied  to  our  personal  convictions ;  how  the  deep  saying 
of  the  Saviour,  "  The  life  is  more  than  meat,"  is  to 
be  so  wrought  into  our  daily  habits,  that  we  shall 
feel  a  spiritual  regeneration,  a  heart  thoroughly  con 
secrated  to  the  holiness  in  Christ,  to  be  our  "  reasonable 


61 

Enter,  therefore,  into  a  brief  analysis  of  your  own  com 
position  ;  see  if  a  fair  analogy  between  the  general  con 
duct  and  management  of  our  life  in  relation  to  other 
great  interests  and  religion  will  not  hold  us  to  keep  our 
spiritual  redemption  a  vital  and  the  foremost  concern. 
If  you  make  even  a  moderate  examination  of  the  origi 
nal  contents  or  faculties  of  your  nature,  regarding  them 
simply  as  facts,  or  in  the  light  of  science,  you  will  not 
deny  that  you  presently  come  upon  two  capacities,  one  a 
capacity  for  distinguishing  between  right  and  wrong,  or 
a  conscience,  and  the  other  a  capacity  for  distinguishing 
between  man  and  God,  or  finite  and  infinite,  that  is, 
a  capacity  for  piety.  You  find  these  organs  in  your 
nature:  a  moral  sense,  or  a  capacity  for  knowing  and 
choosing  between  the  right  and  the  wrong ;  and  a  relig 
ious  sense,  or  a  capacity  for  adoring  and  worshipping 
God.  And  if  you  admit  the  existence  of  these  capaci 
ties  at  all,  none  of  you  that  is  sane  will  deny  that  they 
are  inherently,  and  are  instinctively  felt  to  be,  the  highest 
and  noblest  of  all  your  capacities.  One  of  them  implies 
a  law  of  obligation  towards  men,  and  supposes  unlimited 
measures  of  justice,  charity,  and  purity,  in  all  the  forms 
of  a  beautiful  and  blameless  morality.  The  other  im 
plies  a  law  of  obligation  towards  God,  and  supposes  un 
limited  measures  of  dependence,  devout  love,  and  holy 
aspiration  in  all  the  sanctities  of  piety.  Observe,  I  ap 
peal  only  to  consciousness.  I  say  nothing  yet  of  attain 
ments  ;  of  use  or  abuse  of  these  capacities.  But  if  there 
is  any  person  that  does  not  confess  to  these  things  as 
simple  facts  existing  in  his  nature,  I  do  not  reach  his 
case,  and  cannot  expect  his  sympathy. 

Given  these  capacities,  then,  for  Christian  duty  and 
for  prayer,  and  granting  that  a  certain  essential  elevation 


62 

or  superiority  belongs  to  them,  our  next  point  is,  that 
every  capacity  has  connected  with  it  a  want,  pushing  out 
into  some  expression  of  desire  and  an  effort  for  gratifi 
cation.  These  wants  organize  themselves,  and  work 
towards  their  several  objects  systematically.  The  body 
wants  sustenance,  —  food  for  its  mouth,  clothing  for  its 
exposure,  a  shelter  from  the  storms  and  sun.  Hence 
agriculture,  fisheries,  manufactures,  and  commerce.  The 
mind  wants  knowledge.  Hence  schools,  universities, 
printing-presses,  libraries.  Taste  wants  beauty,  —  not 
only  clothing,  but  handsome  clothing,  —  not  only  a  shel 
ter,  but  a  house  of  fair  proportions,  inviting  furniture, 
and  pictured  walls.  Hence  the  arts  of  design,  dispos 
ing  form  and  color.  The  heart  wants  objects  to  repose 
in,  and  affections  responsive  to  its  own.  Hence  mar 
riage  and  home.  And  so,  leaving  out  religion,  we  have 
society  as  it  is,  —  the  apparatus  and  furnishings  of  a  civ 
ilized  state.  Human  wants  have  found  their  natural 
expression,  and  taken  shape  in  institutions.  All  these 
institutions  are  vital,  and  of  universal  interest,  so  long 
as  the  wants  that  organized  them  are  real  wants. 

But  why  leave  out  religion  ?  The  capacities  and  the 
wants  for  that,  we  have  seen,  are  planted  in  human 
nature,  as  much  as  the  others.  Conscience  wants  an 
upright  life  ;  faith  wants  worship  and  communion  with 
God ;  penitence,  aching  with  remorse,  wants  a  Saviour. 
Hence  there  must  be,  to  preserve  the  analogy,  a  culture 
of  these,  to  keep  them  alive,  to  enlarge  their  power,  and 
to  gratify  them.  An  institution  for  that  culture  will  be 
a  Church. 

See,  now,  the  conclusions  to  which  the  argument  thus 
far  has  conducted  us.  1.  By  our  original  constitution,  by 
the  very  nature  with  which  we  are  all  alike  born,  we  are 


63 

just  as  distinctly  required  to  recognize  and  worship  God 
and  obey  his  commands,  as  we  are  required  to  supply 
our  physical  necessities,  improve  our  minds,  or  cherish 
affectionate  relations  with  parents  or  children,  neighbors 
or  friends,  husband  or  wife.  2.  Christ's  Church,  which 
is  the  great  nursery  and  bond  of  these  spiritual  obliga 
tions,  has  just  as  clear  claims  on  the  personal  respect  and 
personal  membership  of  every  one  of  you,  as  business  or 
schools  or  family ;  and,  in  a  community  like  ours,  a  man 
or  woman  standing  aloof  from  the  consistent  and  thor 
ough  practice  of  Christian  morality  and  Christian  piety 
ought  to  be  just  as  singular  and  anomalous  and  reproach- 
able  an  object,  as  a  person  that  should  refuse  to  learn  to 
read,  or  to"  get  food  for  his  hunger,  or  to  love  his  kindred. 
3.  The  instinctive  feeling  I  have  alluded  to,  which  I  sup 
pose  is  common  to  most  of  us,  that  there  is  a  certain  su 
perior  nobleness  and  sacredness  belonging  to  our  relig 
ious  emotions,  challenges  in  their  behalf  a  devotion  more 
constant,  a  more  cheerful  and  uniform  exercise,  than  the 
instinct  for  bodily  sustenance,  for  intellectual  cultivation, 
or  for  domestic  joy.  "  The  life  is  more  than  meat." 

Are  you  prepared  to  bring  your  individual  lives,  one 
by  one,  and  compare  them  with  this  demand  of  your 
natures,  —  this  law  of  your  God?  Or  will  you  point 
to  any  error  in  the  reasoning  which  compels  us  to  the 
result  ? 

This,  however,  does  not  by  any  means  complete  a  fair 
representation  of  the  case.  I  need  not  feel  the  least 
hesitation  in  asking  you  to  admit,  that,  on  independent 
grounds,  a  Christian  life,  including  both  righteousness 
and  prayer,  brings  higher  claims  to  bear  on  your  heart 
than  anyone,  or  all,  of  those  other  interests  to  which  it 
sustains  this  analogy. 


64 

In  the  first  place,  religion,  embracing  both  its  branches, 
is  a  spirit,  and  such  a  spirit,  that,  while  it  keeps  its  own 
province  sacred,  it  is  capable  of  being  infused  into  all 
these  other  departments  and  interests  of  life,  helping, 
strengthening,  brightening,  and  blessing  every  one.  Ag 
riculture  and  commerce  nourish  and  equip  the  body ;  but 
while  they  do  it,  a  spiritual  life  in  the  laborers  and  mer 
chants,  instead  of  hindering,  furthers  them.  While  they 
are  busy  in  the  field  and  the  market,  Christianity  may 
make  as  beautiful  manifestations  of  itself  in  their  upright 
toil,  as  in  conventicle  or  council-room.  Religion  is  an  in 
visible  angel,  standing  by  them  at  their  posts  of  daily 
sacrifice,  encouraging  them.  It  puts  the  light  of  another 
world  into  their  eyes.  It  puts  a  manly  serenity  upon 
their  features.  It  charms  away  the  worst  anxieties,  com 
punction,  and  despair.  In  a  wide  reach,  and  the  long  trial, 
industry  thrives  better,  and  material  prosperity  is  more 
stable,  in  Christian  hands,  than  in  the  hands  of  men  who 
love  themselves  better  than  God,  and  will  not  review 
their  weekly  weights  and  measures  by  the  balances  of 
the  sanctuary.  So,  in  turn,  the  body  is  wanted  for,  and 
serves,  the  mind  and  the  taste.  But  religion  honors  the 
body.  The  New  Testament  has  the  most  precise  direc 
tions  for  its  lawful  uses  and  healthful  management. 
You  remember  the  Apostle's  striking  language,  asking 
veneration  for  it  as  the  temple  of  God.  Coming  up  a 
step  higher,  the  mind  and  the  taste  are  necessary  to  fur 
nish  an  elevated  tone  to  household  experience.  But  at 
this  hour  of  history,  no  thinking  person  need  be  told,  that, 
if  religion  belongs  anywhere,  it  belongs  in  the  school- 
house  and  the  state-house,  in  newspapers  and  books,  and 
in  the  parlor,  chambers,  and  kitchen  of  a  Christian's  dwell 
ing.  Conscience  and  faith  go  into  everything.  Higher 


65 

than  all,  like  fountains  in  the  sky,  they  send  their  sweet 
nourishment  down  into  all  the  ridges  and  furrows  of  our 
employments;  they  penetrate  every  pore  of  humanity; 
for,  like  those  words  of  Jesus  which  give  them  point  and 
power,  they  are  spirit  and  they  are  life.  They  are 
greater,  infinitely,  than  the  earthly  labors  they  bless. 
"  The  life  is  more  than  meat." 

Again,  the  spiritual  life  asks  of  you  a  more  intense  and 
regular  concern  than  any  other  interest,  because  it  not 
only  penetrates  all  other  interests,  but  outlives  them.  It 
is  the  interest,  and  the  only  interest,  that  cleaves  to  your 
immortality.  Signs  are  continually  appearing  across  the 
scenery  of  material  activity  which  foreshadow  its  decay. 
All  that  is" permanent  about  these  buildings,  pursuits,  pos 
sessions,  is  the  influence  they  leave  on  character  as  they 
vanish  ;  that  is  fresh  as  ever,  when  the  world  has  withered 
and  dropped  off.  The  most  patent  feature  in  every  death- 
chamber  is,  that  it  is  a  final  leave-taking  between  the  man 
and  his  property,  —  not  only  his  hands,  and  lungs,  and 
feet,  but  his  investments,  his  business,  his  relationships  to 
the  world.  You  will  not  wish  me  to  enlarge  on  reflec 
tions  so  familiar  as  those  that  distinguish  between  tran 
sient  goods  and  the  eternity  of  the  soul.  The  difficulty, 
1  suspect,  is  not  that  any  of  us  denies  this  contrast,  but 
that  we  fail  to  realize  it,  because  in  order  to  realize  it  we 
need  the  very  faith  which  it  is  presented  to  produce.  It 
takes  a  spiritual  vision  to  see  that  nothing  but  what  is 
invisible  is  indestructible.  Only  truth,  love,  purity,  spir 
itual  affections,  and  spiritual  attainments,  survive  that 
fire  which  shall  try  every  man's  work,  of  what  sort  it  is. 
The  soul  is  holier  than  the  scene  and  the  instruments 
amidst  which  it  is  trained,  because  it  has  an  everlasting 
consciousness,  responsibility,  judgment.  "  The  life  is  more 

6* 


66 

than  meat,"  because  the  one  cannot  abdicate  the  august 
birthright  of  its  immortality,  and  the  other  sinks  into  cor 
ruption  by  a  necessity  of  its  nature.  It  is  not  written  of 
our  reputation,  our  trade,  or  our  estate,  but  of  our  souls,  that 
they  shall  "all  stand  before  the  judgment-seat  of  God." 

Still  another  and  the  most  impressive  of  witnesses  to 
the  superior  claims  over  body,  intellect,  or  friendship  of 
the  religious  nature  God  has  planted  in  us,  is  the  special 
revelation  that  has  broken  through  the  order  of  history, 
to  put  into  the  world  a  fresh  conviction  of  the  fact.  The 
incarnation  of  Divine  Holiness  in  Christ,  —  what  a  mi 
raculous  attestation  it  is  to  the  transcendent  value  of  the 
spiritual  life !  Man  had  forgotten  his  Maker.  Sin  had 
distorted  his  constitution.  Passion  had  perverted  his 
reason.  Indulgence  had  weakened  his  will.  Self-love 
had  bewildered  his  conscience.  What  went  under  the 
name  of  his  religion  was  a  ghost  of  dead  ceremonies, 
kept  on  exhibition  by  traditions  of  the  Past,  —  not  a  liv 
ing  reality,  giving  a  vital  communion  with  a  present  God. 
The  Law  had  shed  its  virtue,  and  gone  barren ;  and  the 
world,  when  God  thus  manifested  himself  for  its  renova 
tion,  was  only  a  type  of  every,  unrenovated,  irreligious 
heart.  What  has  happened  for  no  other  department  of 
human  welfare  took  place  for  the  lost  soul.  The  media- 
torship  of  Christ  breathed  a  new  vitality  into  these  torpid 
capacities  of  conscience  and  faith.  By  his  person  and 
his  Gospel,  by  death  and  resurrection,  this  Messiah,  this 
Immanuel,  this  Son  of  God,  quickened  these  slumbering 
powers.  God  so  loved  the  world.  Is  not  the  life,  then,  — 
the  life  for  which  Christ  died,  —  more  than  meat  ?  Geth- 
semane,  Calvary,  the  cross,  — •  they  stand  for  ever,  before 
the  ages,  mighty  tokens  of  the  soul's  worth.  That  spec 
tacle  of  infinite  compassion,  changing  the  face  of  the 


67 

world,  by  first  changing  the  heart  of  man,  is  proof  enough 
how  awful  the  issue  is  between  spiritual  life  and  spiritual 
death.  It  restored  Religion  to  its  throne,  and  planted  a 
Church  for  its  nurture,  against  which  the  gates  of  hell 
shall  not  finally  prevail. 

The  Church,  then,  in  a  right  understanding  of  it,  —  for 
T  am  not  using  the  word  in  any  technical  or  theological 
sense,  —  is  at  once  a  divine  institution,  in  that  it  is  the 
perpetuated  body  of  Christ  and  witness  of  his  redeeming 
power ;  and  it  is  also  a  practical  manifestation  of  what 
ever  spiritual  life  resides  among  us.  It  is  the  appointed 
means  for  unfolding  and  nourishing  our  capacities  for 
morality  and  for  piety.  It  is  a  nursery  of  goodness.  It 
is  a  schoohfor  the  conscience.  It  is  an  oratory  for  prayer. 
It  is  the  soul's  house,  collecting,  protecting,  cherishing, 
multiplying,  spiritual  life.  This  is  what  the  Church  is 
by  intention,  —  the  ideal  Church, — the  Church  of  God's 
design.  It  is  an  organization  for  giving  practical  efficacy 
and  triumphant  power  to  the  deepest  truth  we  know; 
namely,  that  life  is  more  than  meat ;  the  soul  too  precious 
to  be  bartered  for  the  world.  But  come,  then,  into  the 
Church  as  it  is.  Come,  that  is,  into  the  region  of  men's 
spiritual  purposes  and  doings  as  they  are,  —  into  that  de 
partment  of  their  life  which  they  call  religion.  What  do 
we  see  ?  Life  ?  interest  ?  energy  ?  reality  ?  Pass  in  there 
from  the  streets  of  travel  and  the  shops  of  merchandise. 
Is  there  life  before  you  like  the  eager,  throbbing  inten 
sity  of  life  you  leave  behind  you  ?  Pass  in  there  from 
the  halls  of  legislation  and  political  debate.  Is  there  in 
terest  in  duty  and  worship  like  the  interest  in  the  prob- 
.ems  of  public  economy  and  the  questions  of  party  suc 
cess  ?  Pass  in  there  from  the  school-house  and  the  uni 
versity.  Is  there  energy  spent  on  forming  righteous 


68  THE    SOUL'S    CORONATION. 

characters  like  the  energy  that  beams  in  the  faces  and 
animates  the  ambition  of  students  and  their  teachers  ? 
Pass  in  there  from  the  joyous  groups  of  kindred  in  their 
homes.  Is  there  reality  like  the  reality  of  the  love  and 
games,  the  sympathy  and  talk,  the  fellowship  and  fervor, 
of  families  and  wedlock,  of  parental  devotion  and  filial 
gratitude  ? 

Why  not  ?  Is  it  not  a  reasonable  service  ?  Where  is 
the  fallacy  in  the  argument?  What  is  the  falsehood  in 
the  New  Testament  ?  Was  the  Saviour  mistaken,  when 
he  declared  the  supremacy  of  spiritual  interests,  —  said  it 
would  be  profitable  to  sell  all  the  world  beside  for  the 
soul,  —  and  bade  men  seek  the  kingdom  of  Heaven  and 
its  righteousness  fir st  ?  Were  the  Apostles  exaggerated 
in  their  zeal  ?  Is  sin  a  matter  of  small  concern  to  us, 
when  God  cannot  look  upon  the  slightest  stain  of  it  with 
out  abhorrence  ?  Is  spiritual  ruin  less  dreadful  to  us  than 
it  was  to  the  immaculate  Lord  who  was  crucified  to  save 
us  from  it  ?  Is  repentance  an  indifferent  matter,  when 
veery  prophet  Heaven  has  ever  sent  has  made  it  the  bur 
den  of  his  message  ?  Why  then  do  spiritual  concerns 
languish  and  dwindle  beside  the  strong  activities  of  busi 
ness,  the  onward  march  of  learning,  the  vital  forces  of 
the  world  ? 

It  must  be  because  the  lower  nature  has  overborne  the 
higher.  Conscience  and  faith  are  absorbed  and  quenched 
by  appetite  and  ambition.  The  carnal  life  enslaves  the 
spiritual.  In  the  noise  and  pressure  of  our  weekly  gain- 
getting  and  gayety,  we  lose  our  perception  of  the  true 
proportions  and  objects  of  our  being.  We  exchange  our 
immortality  for  a  fortune,  our  Saviour  for  pieces  of  silver, 
and  prize  the  inmost  and  eternal  life  less  than  the  body, 
its  raiment  and  its  meat. 


69 

Here,  then,  is  the  inevitable  conclusion  we  are  brought 
to,  looking  straight  on  from  our  starting-point.  What  is 
wanted  is  to  restore  the  spiritual  life  to  the  sovereignty 
God  has  designed  for  it;  to  recrown  the  soul  and  make 
it  master  of  the  flesh  ;  to  estimate  it  as  God  estimates  it ; 
to  seek  its  regeneration  as  He  did  who  laid  down  his  life 
for  its  sake,  and  declared,  that  except  a  man  be  thus  born 
again,  he  cannot  see  the  kingdom  of  Heaven. 

What  shall  reawaken  the  sleeping  heart  ?  What  shall 
restore  the  alienated  estate  ?  What  shall  lift  men  into 
the  honor  they  were  designed  for,  —  persuade  them  that 
to  be  Christians  is  nobler  than  to  be  capitalists  ?  What 
shall  subordinate  comfort  to  character,  exalt  the  spiritual 
capacities  oter  the  fleshly,  and  give  back  to  the  soul  its 
lost  throne  ? 

The  question  is  personal,  and  not  abstract.  It  is  to  be 
answered  by  each  for  himself,  and  not  by  public  demon 
strations,  nor  any  voting  in  assemblies.  We  must  take 
it  home  with  us  into  a  private  meditation.  Self-exami 
nation  must  furnish  the  key  to  it.  What  shall  it  profit 
me  —  is  the  searching  word  —  if  I  gain  the  world  and 
lose  my  soul  ?  Will  that  be  a  reasonable  service  ?  And 
then,  remembering  the  weakness  of  your  best  resolves, 
and  casting  off  your  pride  of  will,  like  the  blind  man  at 
the  road-side,  lift  your  arms  in  patient  trust  to  Christ, 
saying,  "  Lord,  that  mine  eyes  might  be  opened,  that  I 
might  see  these  spiritual  realities  as  they  are,  and  appre 
hend  the  way  whereby  thou  canst  lead  me  to  immortal 
peace." 

There  must  be  personal  effort.  There  must  be  per 
sonal  energy.  There  must  be  watching  and  prayer. 
There  must  be  a  roused,  a  diligent,  an  urgent  seeking,  — 
as  much  more  earnest,  profound,  systematic,  and  perse- 


70 

vering  than  all  our  worldly  enterprise,  as  the  life  is  more 
than  meat.  It  is  your  reasonable  service.  The  king 
dom  of  Heaven  comes  not  into  any  breast  by  accident, 
by  sloth,  by  unconcern. 

Riches  must  begin  in  the  feeling  of  poverty.  And  the 
vilest  poverty  is  that  of  the  rich  man  who  fancies  he  has 
need  of  nothing.  Poor  and  blind  and  miserable,  the  heart 
must  feel  itself,  before  it  can  possess  itself  of  all  things  by 
reconciliation  to  God.  And  man  is  never  so  destitute  as 
when  his  outward  opulence  and  comfort  mock  an  empty, 
aching  breast.  All  that  is  external  and  material  is  never 
really  possessed,  till  it  is  made  to  serve  the  soul,  which 
is  independent  of  its  favors.  Learn  to  look  on  the  splen 
dor  of  your  physical  prosperity  as  only  the  fading  rai 
ment  of  your  spiritual  substance.  Not  the  garments,  not 
the  meat,  not  the  skill,  nor  the  pleasure,  but  the  life  they 
strengthen  and  discipline  for  eternity!  Then,  gaining  or 
losing,  you  are  rich ;  living  or  dying,  you  are  immortal. 
Believe  this :  believe  in  the  Christ  who  revealed  and  es 
tablished  it.  All  things  are  yours  the  moment  you  are 
Christ's.  That  will  be  the  soul's  coronation.  For  to  be 
faithful  unto  the  body's  death,  is  to  put  on  the  crown  of 
an  undying  life. 


SERMON     VI. 

HOMEWAKD   STEPS. 

FOR    TE    WERE    AS    SHEEP    GOING    ASTRAY  ;     BUT    ARE    NOW    RE 
TURNED     UNTO     THE    SHEPHERD    AND    BISHOP    OF    YOUR    SOULS. 

—  1  Peter  ii.  25. 

IT  is  a  common  habit,  both  of  the  popular  mind  and 
of  the  pulpit,  to  look  at  Christian  truth  by  fragments, 
rather  than  as  a  whole.  We  take  it  up  in  its  parts,  get 
interested  in  special  aspects  of  it  as  they  are  presented 
by  passing  events  or  a  personal  experience,  give  our 
attention  to  its  duties  or  its  doctrines,  one  by  one,  with 
out  special  regard  to  order  or  system.  Even  when  we 
consider  our  religion  as  a  practical  power,  working  on 
the  heart,  turning  it  from  darkness  to  light,  and  leading 
it  along  all  the  way  of  change  and  growth  from  sin  to 
holiness,  we  are  not  very  apt  to  bring  the  whole  process 
under  our  view  at  once,  so  as  to  take  in  the  full  sweep 
of  that  sublime  renewal  at  a  single  glance.  We  fail  to 
observe  the  connection  of  one  step  with  another,  marking 
the  beautiful  continuity  and  the  consistent  progress  from 
the  beginning  to  the  end. 

Such  modes  of  inquiry  are  to  some  extent  inevitable. 
For,  with  our  narrow  reach  of  vision  and  our  fallible 
reason,  when  we  have  proudly  compacted  our  scheme 


72  HOMEWARD    STEPS. 

and  adjusted  its  harmony,  the  Holy  Spirit  is  very  apt  to 
show  us  that  his  powers  for  converting  the  world  are 
too  large  and  too  free  for  our  comprehension,  and  that 
his  path  to  the  sinning  heart  transcends  our  poor  contri 
vances.  Besides,  the  way  I  spoke  of  has  its  advantages. 
A  true  and  vital  religion  has  so  much  to  do  with  varia 
ble  emotions,  is  so  much  a  thing  of  the  heart,  partakes 
necessarily  so  much  of  the  ever-shifting  nature  of  life 
itself,  that  perhaps  we  treat  it  as  profitably  when  we 
seize  vigorously  on  the  vivid  points  it  presents  to  our 
faith  and  practice,  one  at  a  time,  in  the  path  of  Provi 
dence,  as  if  we  stopped  in  cooler  blood  to  arrange  our 
notions  into  a  very  formal  and  rigid  system.  For  it  is 
one  of  the  undoubted  lessons  of  history,  that  what  a 
theology  gains  by  the  anatomical  precision  of  its  frame 
work,  it  often  loses  in  life-blood,  healthy  lungs,  and  free 
dom  of  motion. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  a  positive  good  to  be 
gained  by  occasionally  taking  the  less  familiar  course  ; 
by  laying  the  whole  field  under  a  single  rapid  survey, 
looking  along  the  complete  line  of  advance,  and  seeing 
how  the  soul  is  conducted  on,  under  its  Divine  Guide, 
from  the  far  country  to  its  Father's  house.  To  gather 
up,  in  this  way,  the  principal  points  of  a  Christian  ex 
perience,  and  to  present  them  together  in  an  outline  of 
spiritual  biography,  is  what  I  now  propose.  Such  a 
statement  must  be  in  some  sense  a  confession  of  faith,  a 
doctrine  of  salvation  ;  only  it  is  presented  to  you,  not  in 
the  abstract  language  and  forbidding  formulas  of  a  scho 
lastic  theology,  but  in  an  actual  and  living  history,  such 
as  may  belong  to  any  one  of  you.  So  your  own  heart, 
answering  as  far  as  it  goes  along,  will  either  sanction  or 
rectify  the  representation. 


HOMEWARD    STEPS.  73 

I  first  sum  up  these  successive  stages,  through  which 
Christ  leads  his  followers,  under  the  several  terms  that 
represent  them,  taken  in  their  order.  They  are  the  Need, 
the  Difficulty,  the  Warning,  the  Relief,  the  Application 
of  the  Relief,  the  Fruit,  and  the  Result. 

1.  What  is  the  Need  ?  It  is  the  need  of  feeling  one's 
self  in  friendship  with  God.  As  respects  our  religious 
nature  and  prospects,  that  is  the  one  radical,  universal, 
undermost  necessity.  If  you  look  deliberately  down  into 
your  own  heart,  and  think,  you  will  find  that,  provided 
only  you  could  feel  confident  that  you  and  God  were 
agreed,  were  desiring  the  same  things,  were  working  to 
wards  the  same  objects,  were  in  a  certain  divine  partner 
ship,  were  mutually  pledged  to  one  another,  and  had  one 
heart,  mind,  and  will,  then  you  would  be  perfectly  safe 
and  happy.  You  would  be  at  peace.  Nothing  could 
harm  and  nothing  could  greatly  terrify  you.  Let  any 
possibility  happen,  this  Almighty  Friend  would  instantly 
come  to  your  rescue.  You  could  bear  any  sorrow,  and 
any  pain,  and  any  mortal  uncertainty.  With  that  as 
surance,  you  would  know,  that,  even  if  you  were  to  com 
mit  an  occasional  sin,  this  perfect  Friend,  so  wise, 
so  affectionate,  so  gracious,  would  understand,  would 
pity,  would  forgive.  Heaven  and  earth  might  combine 
against  you,  temptation  and  trial,  poverty  and  disease, 
desertion  and  death,  tempest  and  earthquake, —  you  know 
you  could  stand  untroubled  and  secure.  Why  ?  Be 
cause  you  are  on  the  side  of  the  Eternal  Builder  and 
Ruler  of  ah1,  who  will  yet  bring  out  order,  beauty,  sun 
shine,  through  the  earth  and  sky. 

This,  then,  is  the  soul's  one  great  need.     Men  have 
different  names  for  it.     Ask  one,  and  he  will  say,  "  Rec 
onciliation  "  ;  another,  "  Harmony  with  the  Infinite  " ;  an- 
7 


74  HOMEWARD    STEPS. 

other  will  call  it  a  "  Hope,"  and  another  a  "  Faith,"  and 
another  a  "  New  Heart,"  and  another  "  Religion  "  in  gen 
eral.  Some  persons  will  not  allow  that  they  need  any 
such  thing.  This  is  only  because  they  have  not  yet 
looked  far  enough  into  themselves  to  be  conscious  of 
what  they  do  want,  or  else  their  pride  will  not  let  them 
confess.  It  stands  to  reason,  it  stands  to  common  sense, 
it  stands  to  Scripture,  —  no  logic  and  no  folly  can  get 
away  from  it,  —  the  first  want  of  a  created  spirit  is  to  be 
on  friendly  terms  with  its  Creator,  child  with  Father, 
man  with  God.  I  say  nothing  yet  of  the  difficulty  of 
reaching  that  assurance,  nor  how  it  is  done.  But  it  is 
the  want ;  and  there  will  be  uneasiness,  there  will  be  se 
cret  restlessness,  there  will  be  inward  tossing  and  trouble, 
till  it  is  had.  Friendship,  or  reconciliation,  with  God  : 
it  was  what  Paul  needed,  with  all  his  Pharisaic  pro 
priety  and  excellent  education,  when  he  went  to  Damas 
cus.  It  was  what  Peter  and  Cornelius,  what  the  jailer 
and  Magdalen,  what  the  prodigal  son  and  the  fallen 
woman  needed.  Profligate  Augustine  with  his  scholar 
ship,  profane  John  Newton  in  his  hammock  on  ship 
board,  the  accomplished,  blameless  Chalmers,  needed  it ; 
all  men,  however  upright,  without  piety,  and  all  women 
amiable  without  consecration,  —  all  among  us  that  have 
it  not,  —  need  it.  Thousands  need  it  who  only  know, 
miserably  enough,  that  they  need  something  ;  thousands 
more,  whom  some  appetite  or  vanity  is  robbing  of  their 
peace,  who  are  trying  desperately  to  live  without  it ;  un 
satisfied  hearts  in  this  church,  empty  hearts  all  around  it, 
and  aching  hearts  over  the  whole  earth,  —  this  is  their 
Need. 

2.  What  is  the  Difficulty  ?     The  difficulty,  of  course, 
is  having  something  in  us  that  is  opposite  to  God,  some- 


HOMEWARD    STEPS.  75 

thing  that  does  not  assimilate  with  his  holiness,  some 
thing  that  refuses  to  harmonize  with  his  love,  and  that 
therefore  keeps  us  apart  from  him.  In  other  words,  the 
difficulty  is  sin.  If  there  were  no  sin,  our  natures  would 
stand  naturally  and  constantly  in  accord  with  his,  because 
he  made  man,  —  made  man  to  resemble  himself,  made 
man  after  his  own  likeness  and  pleasure.  Unless,  then, 
something  had  come  in  to  create  a  separation,  we  should 
dwell  in  the  bosom  of  his  favor  from  our  birth. 

Drop  out,  entirely,  the  question  how  this  sin  got  in ; 
it  is  there.  The  problem  of  its  origin  is  one  with  which 
our  present  practical  discussion  has  no  concern.  Theo 
ries  on  that  ppint  are  as  thick  in  the  Church  as  withered 
leaves  in  a  forest  path  in  October,  and  often  as  dry. 
Two  facts  are  enough :  one  is,  that  sin  is  actually  found 
in  every  one  of  us,  from  the  moment  he  wakes  to  con 
sciousness,  that  is,  the  moment  he  knows  that  he  exists 
at  all ;  the  other  is,  that  it  is  to  be  got  rid  of,  or  its  bur 
den  is,  by  personal  effort.  It  is  inside  of  us,  an  internal 
disease,  and  not  on  the  surface.  It  is  of  the  heart,  and 
not  of  the  hands  and  feet.  It  belongs  to  character  be 
fore  it  belongs  to  conduct,  or  else  it  would  never  serious 
ly  estrange  us  from  God.  It  is  a  vitiated  state  of  the 
spiritual  system  and  its  circulations.  It  is  bad  blood  in 
the  veins  of  the  soul.  Its  forms  are  manifold ;  it  breaks 
out  into  avarice,  lust,  temper,  falsehood,  slander,  vanity, 
selfishness,  profanity,  —  the  whole  brood  of  vices,  crimes, 
impieties,  worldlinesses.  But  they  all  have  one  organic 
root  in  the  heart.  They  press  and  goad  us,  they  beset 
us  in  society  and  solitude,  they  follow  after  and  irritate 
and  corrupt  us.  And  just  so  far  as  they  master  us,  they 
drag  us  apart  from  God.  Just  as  far  as  we  yield  to  them, 
we  lose  sight  of  him,  and  the  blessed  feeling  of  friend 
ship  which  is  our  need.  The  difficulty  is  sin. 


76  HOMEWARD    STEPS. 

3.  What  is  the  Warning?  It  is  the  law.  That  is 
God's  voice,  telling  us  when  we  are  out  of  his  friend 
ship  ;  in  other  words,  telling  us  what  this  sin  is.  The 
law  is  what  shows  us  the  eternal  distinction  between 
being  on  God's  side  and  being  against  him ;  that  is,  be 
tween  the  right  and  the  wrong.  How  many  voices  this 
law  has !  It  speaks  from  Sinai,  from  Jerusalem,  from  the 
Mount  of  Olives,  from  Calvary.  It  speaks  from  dwell 
ing-houses  among  us  where  passion  has  darkened  every 
window  with  a  curtain  of  shame  ;  from  the  dishonest 
merchant's  disgrace  ;  from  the  death-scene  of  the  deb 
auchee  ;  from  the  funeral  of  the  early  victim  of  fashion 
able  pleasure.  It  whispers  through  our  secret  fears  of 
punishment ;  it  makes  a  dramatic  exhibition  in  our  trem 
bling  nerves ;  it  turns  our  sick-bed  into  a  pulpit ;  it  sends 
those  shrieks  that  are  rather  felt  than  heard  through  the 
soul's  remorse.  Wherever  law  is  violated,  there  law  is 
reproclaimed.  The  Bible  is  its  prolonged  and  solemn 
cry.  It  is  written  out  all  over  the  world.  Sun  and 
darkness  are  its  light  and  shade.  In  every  man  and 
woman  and  child  it  finds  some  hearing,  because  it  finds 
a  conscience.  If  we  ever  start  the  treacherous  inquiry 
whether  we  cannot  be  friends  with  God,  and  get  the  ben 
efits  of  his  favor,  without  renouncing  our  sin,  —  whether 
we  cannot  be  one  with  him  without  giving  up  what  is 
opposite  and  hateful  to  him,  —  this  law  rebukes  our  pre 
sumption.  It  is  our  warning.  It  never  temporizes  nor 
parleys.  It  offers  no  compromise  and  no  postponement. 
It  requires  perfect  obedience,  immaculate  purity,  unde- 
viating  justice.  There  is  no  provision  in  it  for  anything 
but  penalty  and  suffering  upon  the  violator.  It  is  clear 
as  the  sunbeam,  sure  as  gravitation,  terribly  sincere. 
"  This  do,  and  thou  shalt  live."  «  Do  that,  and  die." 


HOMEWARD    STEPS.  77 

Another  attribute  of  law,  making  it  yet  more  intensely 
a  warning,  is  that  it  constantly  keeps  in  advance  of  our 
performance,  and  yet  condemns  us  for  not  keeping  up 
with  it.  With  the  august  and  awful  splendor  of  its  pu 
rity,  it  frowns  upon  our  pollution,  shames  our  incon 
sistencies,  threatens  our  guilt.  The  farther  we  go  in 
complying  with  its  demands,  the  keener  our  sense  of  its 
perfection  grows ;  the  higher  the  standard  rises,  the 
clearer  the  command  sounds,  and  the  more  hopeless  our 
self-disgust  and  our  agony  become.  There  is  no  satis 
faction  there.  Just  in  proportion  as  we  come  consciously 
under  law,  and  law  alone,  we  are  wretched.  It  is  warn 
ing,  and  nothing  but  warning.  Paul's  wondrous  spirit 
ual  insight  saw  that ;  and  so  he  says,  in  his  energetic 
phrase,  that  sin  comes  by  the  law ;  the  strength  of  sin 
is  the  law ;  when  the  commandment  came,  sin  revived. 
That  is,  by  the  law,  the  rule  of  right,  comes  a  knowledge 
of  transgression.  No  law,  no  violation  of  law,  —  and  so 
no  accusing  conscience.  And  the  more  law,  that  is,  the 
more  clearly  you  see  the  command,  the  more  sin.  This 
is  logical ;  and  it  is  experimental.  When  you  have  fath 
omed  the  spiritual  argument  in  the  first  eight  chapters 
to  the  Romans,  you  have  learned  the  profoundest  lesson 
of  personal  and  practical  wisdom  you  are  likely  to  find 
in  the  present  life.  The  difficulty  with  our  prevailing 
style  of  religion  lies  precisely  here.  We  are  legalists, 
and  not  children  of  grace ;  we  are  Jews,  and  not  Chris 
tians  ;  in  fact,  though  not  in  form,  we  take  after  Moses, 
and  not  Jesus.  We  think  to  be  saved  simply  by  per 
formances,  by  moral  regularity,  by  following  a  rule  of 
decency,  by  correct  habits,  by  a  respectable  deportment. 
And  certainly  we  must  try  with  all  our  might  to  keep  the 
law,  or  else  we  are  not  fit  for  grace,  and  have  no  promise 
7* 


78  HOMEWARD    STEPS. 

of  forgiveness.     But  unless  we  have  something  beyond 
and  after  law,  it  is  plain  we  are  only  warned. 

4.  With  such  a  Need,  such  a  Difficulty,  and  such  a 
Warning,  it  is  not  strange  that  we  look  for  a  Relief. 
What  is  that  Relief  ?  What  must  it  be,  by  the  very  con 
ditions  of  the  case  ?  In  the  first  place,  whatever  it  is,  it 
must  come  forth  out  of  God  himself.  The  offended  one 
must  forgive.  The  harmony  our  sin  has  destroyed  can 
not  be  restored  by  the  act  of  one  party.  Reconciliation 
can  come  only  from  the  Infinite  and  Unchangeable  Will 
restoring  us,  mercy  and  justice  both  being  kept  inviolate. 
Then  the  Relief  must  be  a  living  person.  No  dead  ex 
piation,  nor  mercantile  bargain,  can  heal  that  deadly  and 
moral  alienation.  There  must  be  personal  affections, 
personal  influence,  personal  mediation.  It  must  be  a 
person  like  us,  as  well  as  from  God,  —  of  human  sensi 
bility,  as  well  as  of  divine  authority  and  power.  All 
the  plenitude  of  God's  wisdom  and  truth  and  love  must 
be  there,  and  all  the  sacrifice  and  suffering  and  temp 
tation  of  humanity.  There  must  be  a  perfect  life,  re 
vealing  and  incarnating  the  divine.  There  must  be  a 
death,  melting,  moving,  redeeming,  by  a  transcendent 
sacrifice.  You  turn  from  the  image  in  the  mind  to  the 
historic  reality,  and  behold !  Jesus  of  Nazareth.  He  is 
the  relief.  You  listen,  and  a  voice  out  of  heaven,  over 
his  head,  "  This  is  my  beloved  Son ;  whoso  believeth 
in  him  shall  not  perish,  but  have  eternal  life."  You 
listen  again,  and  a  voice  at  his  side,  "  Behold  the  Lamb 
of  God  that  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world."  You 
listen  again,  and  in  his  own  voice,  "  Come  unto  me  "  ; 
"  The  Son  quickeneth  whom  he  will"  ;  "  Whosoever  liv- 
eth  and  believeth  in  me  shall  never  die  "  ;  "  All  that  the 
Father  hath  are  mine."  Here  is  an  answer  to  the  Need. 


HOMEWARD    STEPS.  79 

Here  is  a  way  out  of  the  Difficulty.  Here  is  peace  after 
the  Warning.  The  words  spoken  are  the  Father's  words. 
For  reconciliation  he  is  the  Reconciler.  To  save  sinners 
this  Saviour  came  into  the  world.  To  satisfy,  and 
supersede,  and  fulfil  the  Law,  he  brings  a  living  Gos 
pel.  The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  is  upon  him,  because  he 
preaches  that  Gospel  to  the  poor,  and  opens  prison-doors, 
and  lets  in  light  upon  dungeons,  and  unfastens  chains, 
and  anoints  the  fretted  limbs.  And  this  Saviour  is  not 
only  making  intercession  for  his  Church  to-day,  in  the 
heavens,  being  ascended  into  that  glory  which  he  had 
with  the  Father  before  the  world  was,  but  he  is  literally 
and  personally  present  in  the  midst  of  his  Church,  fulfil 
ling  his  own  promise,  the  life  of  every  believer's  heart ; 
not  a  dead  Christ,  but  a  living ;  not  a  departed  Re 
deemer,  but  keeping  personal  relations  with  his  own 
who  love  him.  What  infinite  inspiration  in  that  faith ! 
In  the  great  conflict,  where  victory  is  immortal  life,  our 
Leader  watches  us. 

There  is  a  touching  fact  related  in  history  of  a  High 
land  chief,  of  the  noble  house  of  M'Gregor,  who  fell 
wounded  at  the  battle  of  Preston  Pans.  Seeing  their 
chief  fall,  it  is  said,  the  clan  wavered,  and  gave  the 
enemy  an  advantage.  The  old  chieftain,  beholding  this, 
raised  himself  up  on  his  elbow,  while  the  blood  gushed 
in  streams  from  his  wounds,  and  cried  aloud :  "  I  am 
not  dead,  my  children ;  I  am  looking  at  you  to  see  you 
do  your  duty."  These  words  revived  the  sinking  cour 
age  of  his  brave  Highlanders.  "  There  was  a  charm  in 
the  fact  that  they  still  fought  under  the  eye  of  their  chief. 
It  roused  them  to  put  forth  their  mightiest  energies,  and 
they  did  all  that  human  strength  could  do,  to  stem  and 
turn  the  dreadful  tide  of  battle. 


80  HOMEWARD    STEPS. 

Now  they,  do  it  to  win  a  corruptible  crown,  but  we  an 
incorruptible.  When  our  strength  falters,  or  confidence 
wavers,  the  Prince  of  Peace,  with  no  vengeance  but  love 
only  in  his  voice,  says  to  us  also :  "  I  am  not  dead,  my 
children,  though  my  blood  has  once  been  shed  for  you. 
Lo !  I  am  with  you  alway,  even  unto  the  end  of  the 
world."  Law  is  melted  in  love.  Instead  of  command 
ments  graved  on  tables  of  stone,  we  have  a  cross  whose 
blood  is  mercy.  We  are  no  longer  under  law,  but  grace. 
Christ  is  the  Relief,  our  Redeemer. 

5.  What  is  the  Application  of  this  Relief  ?  I  ask  again, 
How  does  a  child  "  apply  "  his  mother's  love  ?  He  opens 
his  heart  and  lets  the  blessed  influence  stream  in.  How 
does  the  young  man,  struggling  with  a  hard  fortune,  in  a 
crowd  of  strangers,  "  apply  "  the  good-will  of  the  gener 
ous  benefactor  who  offers  him  sympathy  and  counsel 
and  credit  ?  He  stretches  out  his  confidence,  and  wel 
comes  the  timely  friendship  that  saves  him.  These  are 
fair  illustrations.  All  our  spiritual  affections  are  under 
one  law.  If  we  would  have  the  benefits  of  Christ's  di 
vine  mediation  and  ministry  cleave  to  our  hearts,  and 
regenerate  our  natures,  and  build  us  up  into  strong  and 
noble  and  beautiful  characters,  we  must,  first  of  all, 
throw  open  our  breasts  to  him.  We  must  believe  on  him. 
We  must  trust  in  him.  We  must  drop  our  doubts  of 
his  own  promises.  The  grand  condition  of  being  saved 
is,  after  all,  simple  willingness  to  be  saved.  We  have 
not  to  go  after  a  Saviour,  nor  to  invent  one  by  our  in 
genuity,  nor  to  purchase  one  by  our  performances,  nor  to 
propitiate  one  by  persuasion,  but  simply  to  receive  one 
who  waits,  to  unbar  the  heart's  door  where  he  stands 
even  now  and  knocks,  to  let  him  freely  in. 


HOMEWARD    STEPS.  81 

"  Let  not  justice  make  you  linger, 

Nor  of  fitness  idly  dream ; 
All  the  fitness  he  requireth 
Is  to  feel  your  need  of  him." 

We  must  sit  at  his  feet,  not  to  criticise  his  claims,  but 
to  listen ;  not  to  speculate,  but  to  be  renewed  ;  not  to 
use  the  scale  and  dividers  of  a  metaphysic  or  dogmatic 
scheme  upon  him,  but  to  adore  the  blessed  mystery,  to 
drink  in  his  spirit,  to  catch  the  heavenly  sympathy  of  his 
love,  to  yield  ourselves  up  to  his  inspiring  and  moulding 
touch,  to  bend  the  knee,  and  lay  our  heads  in  his  bosom, 
and  so  be  ready  to  rise  up  daily  to  do  his  work,  and  press 
on  after  him  into  his  kingdom.  That  is,  the  application 
of  the  Relief  is  Faith.  Again  and  again  the  Apostle  said, 
"  Believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  thou  shalt  be 
saved."  Believe,  that  is,  not  with  the  brain,  but  with  the 
heart,  —  with  that  kind  of  faith  in  which  love  is  a  larger 
element  than  intellect,  and  trust  is  more  than  assent. 
This  is  the  faith  that  completes  the  whole  work  of  regen 
eration.  It  carries  penitence  deeper  down  among  the 
springs  of  feeling.  It  heightens  the  blush  of  shame  at 
living  a  selfish  and  worldly  life,  because  it  is  so  alien  to 
the  disinterested  and  devout  temper  of  the  Master.  It 
makes  the  new  life  a  reality,  because  it  founds  it  in  the 
deepest  motives.  It  changes  the  whole  inner  man.  It 
works  by  love.  It  enters  the  invisible,  and  dwells  in  the 
secret  tabernacle  of  a  most  holy  joy. 

And  so  it  is  commonly  found  that  the  beginning  of  a 
real  arid  right  religious  life  is  a  penitent  and  humble 
renunciation  of  self,  —  self-will,  self-confidence,  self-guid 
ance,  self-love.  Only  he  that  thus  humbleth  himself 
shall  be  exalted.  Before  we  can  lay  hold  on  the  Mas 
ter's  hand,  we  must  let  go  money,  dress,  wine-cups, 
worldly  honors.  Before  we  are  lifted  up,  we  must  be 


82  HOMEWARD    STEPS. 

cast  down.  A  young  artist  at  Rome  went  down  into  the 
vast,  dark  Catacombs  alone,  to  copy  some  of  the  designs 
on  the  tablets  of  the  sepulchres.  After  he  had  groped 
his  way  through  many  intricate  and  winding  passages, 
led  on  by  the  fascination  of  his  discoveries,  suddenly  his 
lamp  went  out.  Not  a  ray  of  light  penetrated  those  sub 
terranean  acres.  It  was  the  blackness  of  darkness.  In 
increasing  terror,  he  felt  his  stumbling  way  among  the 
labyrinths  of  tombs  and  dead  men's  bones,  not  knowing 
whether  he  was  nearing  the  outlet  or  receding  from  it. 
At  last,  faint  with  effort,  choked  with  dust,  and  in  an  ag 
ony  of  despair,  he  gave  up  all  reliance,  and  fell  prostrate 
to  the  ground  to  die.  But  as  he  fell,  his  hand  acciden 
tally  grasped  the  thread  which  had  been  placed  as  a  clew 
to  the  pilgrim ;  hope  revived ;  and  he  regained  the  open 
air  and  the  day.  How  often  it  happens,  that  some  dis 
tress  or  misfortune,  some  nearness  to  the  tomb  almost  as 
literal  as  his,  must  create  in  us  the  feeling  of  utter  help 
lessness  first,  before  we  are  ready  to  lean  with  faith  on 
our  Guide.  When  we  renounce  ourselves,  we  seize  the 
clew ;  and  then  we  rise,  in  the  energy  of  a  new-born  and 
confident  hope,  and  work  steadfastly  on  into  the  light. 

6.  What  is  the  Fruit?  It  is  righteousness.  Infalli 
bly  and  invariably,  it  is  righteousness.  If  that  fruit  does 
not  grow,  some  one  of  the  previous  links  in  the  line  of 
causes  has  been  left  out.  The  penitence  was  not  sin 
cere.  The  reform  was  not  true.  The  faith  was  not  gen 
uine.  By  their  fruits  ye  shall  know  them.  Not  right 
eousness  always  in  one  style  of  its  manifestations.  It 
may  be  in  a  tradesman's  bargains,  or  a  mechanic's  jobs ; 
in  a  scholar's  simplicity,  or  a  clerk's  fidelity.  It  may  be 
in  a  forbearing  disposition,  where  there  are  daily  provoca 
tions  ;  it  may  be  in  magnanimity  toward  a  mean  com- 


HOMEWARD    STEPS.  83 

petitor ;  it  may  be  on  a  couch  of  slow  and  patient  suffer 
ing,  where  needed  energies  are  crippled,  and  a  dependent 
family  are  left  unprovided  for.  But  it  is  none  the  less 
righteousness  in  one  case  than  the  other,  —  as  dear  to 
God,  as  resplendent  to  the  spiritual  eyesight  of  angels. 
It  has  equally  glorious  exhibitions  in  the  statesman  that 
carries  an  incorrupt  breast  through  the  lobbies  of  a  state- 
house  or  through  the  bribes  of  the  capitol,  and  in  the 
woman  that  sways  with  patient  justice  the  perplexing 
politics  of  the  nursery,  or  is  daring  enough  to  resist  the 
tyranny  of  fashion.  It  is  in  the  politician  that  refuses  to 
mortgage  his  conscience  to  the  Devil,  and  in  the  freeman 
that  cannot  be  hired  by  office,  nor  persuaded  by  sophis 
try,  to  make  his  brother-man  a  slave.  It  is  in  the  preach 
ers  that  reverence  their  message  more  than  their  salaries, 
and  in  parishes  that  keep  a  soul  as  well  as  a  sanctuary. 
The  lustre  of  a  saintly  heart  needs  no  artificial  reflectors 
to  enhance  its  glory.  It  is  splendid  by  its  own  original 
radiance.  That  panoply  of  sacred  principle  that  lets  no 
arrow  of  the  adversary  through  any  joint  of  its  harness 
is  the  Christian's  every-day  garment.  Every  Christian 
cause  is  stronger  for  his  hand  and  his  tongue.  No 
tempter  is  cunning  enough  to  wring  a  scandal  from  his 
behavior.  No  neighbor  shall  hesitate  on  which  side,  in 
the  grand  division  of  the  world,  to  reckon  him.  He  is 
committed  frankly.  He  is  pledged  irrevocably.  He  is 
consecrated  manfully.  If  he  is  Christ's  man,  there  is  no 
situation,  nor  turn,  nor  emergency,  where  Christ  is  not 
honored  in  his  life.  And  that  because  the  Master's  spirit 
is  in  him. 

Christianity  patronizes  no  system  of  half-education. 
It  asks  a  form  of  manhood  embodying  every  natural  idea 
that  philosophy  has  propounded,  genius  represented,  or 


84  HOMEWARD    STEPS. 

history  disciplined.  It  is  no  ally  of  a  stationary  intelli 
gence,  nor  of  a  sluggish  will,  nor  of  a  timid  heart. 
Growth  is  its  law,  —  growth  in  wisdom  and  growth  in 
love.  It  is  not  satisfied,  therefore,  with  conversion,  but 
is  quite  as  exacting  of  sanctification,  bidding  the  convert 
forget  the  elements  and  go  on  to  perfection.  Christian 
ity  wants  to  build  after  the  pattern  of  a  divine  beauty,  a 
symmetry  without  blemish,  and  a  wholeness  without  de 
fect.  It  is  itself  incarnated  in  a  living  example  of  that 
completeness.  It  has  a  welcome  for  every  contribution  of 
science,  only  requiring  that  science  shall  remember  its 
ministerial  office,  not  exalting  its  telescopes  and  crucibles 
into  an  apparatus  of  will-worship,  displacing  depend 
ence  and  redemption.  It  has  nothing  but  contempt  for 
that  complacent,  Pharisaic  style  of  piety,  which  fancies 
its  only  needed  work  is  done  when  it  has  just  grazed  the 
gates  of  hell  by  sliding  into  a  lazy  church ;  which  identifies 
entering  the  ark  of  the  covenant  with  escaping  from  the 
vineyards  of  brave  toil,  and  goes  shuffling  and  dozing 
through  a  life  that  vibrates  between  formalities  on  Sun 
day  and  intense  vitalities  all  the  week,  —  alive  in  the 
shop  and  caucus,  but  asleep  at  church ;  —  character  all 
the  while  rotting  away  under  those  obscene  inconsisten 
cies,  a  cowardly  conscience  and  a  voluble  confession,  —  a 
brain  boiling  with  the  plots  of  politics  or  the  bargains  of 
trade,  and  a  heart  hard  as  the  nether  millstone  to  all  the 
sufferings  of  humanity ;  —  a  prayerless  life,  or  else  a  life 
less  prayer. 

The  Need  does  not  tend  more  directly  to  the  Difficulty  ; 
sin  is  not  more  certainly  assailed  by  the  Warning;  the 
Law  does  not  more  naturally  waken  the  longing  for  the 
Relief;  Christ  does  not  more  gladly  enter  in  where  faith 
applies  for  him,  than  faith  itself  acts  its  noble  energy 


HOMEWARD    STEPS.  85 

forth  into  righteousness,  works  by  love,  bears  the  Fruit  of 
philanthropy,  integrity,  patience,  temperance,  emancipa 
tion,  brotherly-kindness,  charity. 

7.  What  is  the  Result  ?  Let  the  noble  and  animating 
words  of  Paul  answer :  "  But  now,  being  made  free  from 
sin,  and  become  servants  to  God,  ye  have  your  fruit  unto 
holiness,  and  the  end,  everlasting'  life."  Everlasting 
life  is  the  result.  The  soul  has  reached  its  period  of  vic 
tory.  From  the  far  country,  through  these  seven  stages, 
it  has  travelled  back,  till  it  has  come  home,  —  home,  — 
O  word  of  unspeakable  and  unexhausted  meaning!  The 
door  of  the  Father's  house  was  open,  and  it  has  entered 
in.  To  hear  that  sentence  of  forgiving  welcome,  —  as 
if  all  the  sighs  of  a  parent's  anxious  and  agonized  af 
fection  were  suddenly  melted  into  one  musical  and  joy 
ous  anthem  of  thanksgiving,  —  "  This  my  son  was  dead, 
and  is  alive  again ;  he  was  lost,  and  is  found,"  —  to  hear 
that  from  the  Father's  lips  is  heaven  enough.  After 
conflict,  there  is  peace.  Now  is  "  the  rest  that  remaineth 
for  the  people  of  God."  This  is  life  eternal.  Hence 
forth,  there  shall  be  labor,  indeed,  because  labor  is  the 
best  satisfaction  of  a  spiritual  being.  There  shall  be  trial, 
because  only  by  trial  come  strength  and  progress,  which 
are  the  very  honors  of  our  immortality.  But  it  shall  be 
labor  no  longer  outside  the  kingdom  of  Heaven.  It  is 
labor  in  the  Master's  society,  labor  under  the  encour 
agements  of  his  friendship,  labor  with  the  crown  on  the 
head,  and  the  seal  in  the  forehead,  and  the  reconciliation 
in  the  heart.  Faithful  continuance  in  well-doing,  not  for 
the  sake  of  the  reward,  but  for  the  brave  relish  of  fidel 
ity's  own  sake,  has  brought  the  disciple  to  his  Lord ;  and 
when  he  looks  up,  behold  !  glory  and  honor  and  immor 
tality  are  the  spiritual  trophies  that  adorn  his  dwelling. 


86  HOMEWARD    STEPS. 

Thus  falls  the  sweet  benediction  of  the  Apostle :  "  Ye 
were  as  sheep  going  astray ;  but  are  now  returned  unto 
the  Shepherd  and  Bishop  of  your  souls."  Have  I  drawn, 
with  any  traces  of  truth,  the  homeward  steps  of  a  human 
soul,  —  its  need  of  reconciliation,  its  difficulty  in  its  in 
ward  sin,  its  warning  from  a  law  so  unbending  and  so  pure 
as  to  be  dreadful,  its  divine  deli verance  in  the  appointed 
Reconciler,  its  reception  .of  his  inspiring  and  renewing  and 
redeeming  spirit  by  a  penitent  and  lowly  faith,  its  fruit  in 
a  humane  and  holy  life,  its  end  in  its  salvation  ? 

Homeward  steps :  without  these  can  we  ever  see  our 
home  ?  Is  there  any  encouragement,  anywhere,  to  think 
we  can  have  an  answer  to  the  momentary  impulse  which 
sometimes  says,  "  Let  me  die  the  death  of  the  righteous !" 
if  we  have  not  tried  to  live  the  life  of  the  righteous  ? 
When  Stephen,  first  of  martyrs,  falling  bruised  and 
bloody  under  the  stones  hurled  by  Jewish  bigotry,  ex 
claimed  in  rapture,  "  Lord  Jesus,  receive  my  spirit ! "  was 
the  image  of  his  Lord  an  unfamiliar  vision,  or  the  thought 
of  meeting  him  a  new  suggestion  ?  The  last  words  of 
the  mother  of  John  Wesley  to  her  family  were,  "  Chil 
dren,  as  soon  as  I  am  released,  sing  a  psalm  of  praise  to 
God " ;  could  that  be  the  farewell  of  a  spirit  to  which 
psalms  of  praise  were  strange  before  ?  Could  any  tongue 
not  familiar  with  the  language  of  Christian  hope  say 
what  Philip  Doddridge  said :  "  Let  me  be  thankful  that, 
though  God  loves  my  departed  child  too  well  to  permit 
it  to  return  to  me,  he  will,  erelong,  bring  me  to  my 
child  ? "  As  Owen,  the  author  of  the  "  Meditations  on 
the  Glory  of  Christ,"  lay  dying,  he  said  to  a  brother-be 
liever,  "  The  long-wished-for  day  has  come  at  last,  when 
I  shall  see  that  glory  in  another  manner  than  I  have  ever 
done  or  was  capable  of  doing  in  this  world."  Does  that 


HOMEWARD    STEPS.  87 

sound  like  the  speech  of  a  faith  extemporized  for  the  oc 
casion  ?  Margaret  Wilson,  "  a  young  martyr  of  eigh 
teen,"  in  the  reign  of  James  II.,  fastened  by  her  persecu 
tors  to  a  stake  in  the  bay  at  low  water,  to  be  drowned  by 
the  rising  tide,  repeated  in  a  clear,  full  voice  the  twenty- 
third  Psalm,  and  then,  as  the  water  choked  her,  added, 
after  Stephen,  "  Lord  Jesus,  receive  my  spirit."  Could 
that  tone  of  triumph  have  sounded  over  the  waves,  if  the 
steadfastness  of  a  long  and  patient  confession  had  not 
inspired  her  lips  ? 

In  some  one  of  these  seven  stages  of  spiritual  pilgrim 
age  every  soul  among  us  is  found  to-day ;  for  beneath 
alienation  from  God  there  is  no  lower  depravity,  and 
above  eternal  life  and  love  there  is  no  more  perfect  holi 
ness  or  joy.  Which  one  of  us  shall  be  too  cowardly  or 
too  careless  to  bring  the  wholesome  questions  personally 
home :  At  which  point  am  I  ?  Which  way  do  my  steps 
tend  ?  Is  my  journey  towards  the  far  country,  or  towards 
my  Father's  house  ?  Or  do  I  stand  weak,  irresolute,  and 
despicable,  looking  now  this  way,  and  now  that,  halting 
between  husks  with  the  swine,  and  the  honors  of  glory 
everlasting  ?  Shall  I  go  farther  astray,  or  shall  I  return, 
a  grateful  penitent,  to  the  Shepherd  and  Bishop  of  souls  ? 


SERMON    VII. 

HOLINESS    TO    THE    LORD. 

AND   THOU   SHALT  MAKE    A    PLATE    OF    PUKE    GOLD,    AND    GRAVE 
UPON   IT,   LIKE    THE  ENGRAVINGS  OF  A  SIGNET,  HOLINESS  TO  THE 

LORD.  —  Exod.  xxviii.  36. 

FIRST,  an  examination  of  the  word  Holiness,  and  its 
meaning;  then  the  question,  how  holiness,  the  spirit 
ual  element  in  character,  is  gained,  —  or  what  is  the  law 
of  its  growth ;  and  thirdly,  the  question  where  it  is  to  be 
exercised,  —  or  what  is  the  law  of  its  manifestation. 

How  much  meaning,  after  all  our  abuses  of  it,  clings 
to  one  of  these  old  biblical  words!  We  pervert  it,  we 
make  false  applications  of  it,  we  mix  it  in  with  the  de 
ceptions  of  our  current  speech,  we  let  it  slip  into  our 
practice  of  that  terrible  social  dishonesty  which  makes  so 
much  of  our  fashionable  conversation  what  an  observing 
satirist  once  described  all  language  to  be,  —  a  contrivance 
for  concealing  our  thoughts  ;  and  yet,  in  spite  of  so  many 
frauds  and  forgeries  upon  it,  we  never  wholly  sift  out  the 
original  value.  And  there  are  some  words  which  are 
slower  to  be  vulgarized  by  these  familiarities  than  others, 
retaining  an  awfulness  which  forbids  their  desecration, 
almost  like  a  sanctuary,  or  a  mother's  Bible,  or  a  dead 
child's  memory.  One  of  these  words  is  holiness.  That 


HOLINESS    TO    THE    LORD.  89 

term  carries  with  it  a  strict  and  solitary  individuality. 
Let  us  keep  it,  the  more  reverently  and  affectionately, 
for  that  reason.  If  any  unnatural  and  artificial  associa 
tions  have  crept  up  about  it,  by  formal  usage,  let  us  take 
it  back  out  of  the  vocabulary  of  cant,  into  the  property  of 
common  sense.  If  it  sounds  somewhat  vague  and  in 
definite,  let  us  try  to  fix  upon  it  an  exacter  definition.  It 
has  a  signification  altogether  its  own.  We  are  not  likely 
to  hear  it  where  its  real  sense  is  wholly  out  of  the  speak 
er's  thoughts.  Indeed,  it  is  rather  remarkable  how  many 
men's  lips  there  are  that  never  can  speak  it.  What  spe 
cial  and  sacred  grandeur  lingers  in  it,  appealing  to  a  fine 
instinct  even  in  very  thoughtless  minds,  forbidding  them 
to  pronounce  itv?  We  all  know  some  men  and  women 
by  whom  it  would  startle  us  to  hear  this  word  holiness 
deliberately  uttered,  and  who  would  themselves  find  a 
kind  of  embarrassment  in  forcing  it  from  their  lips.  Is 
this  because  there  is  a  certain  spiritual  quality  suggested 
by  it  which  is  foreign  from  their  characters,  and  a  shade 
of  religious  conviction,  to  which  nothing  in  their  habit  of 
life  and  feeling  answers  ? 

Preparatory  to  a  fresh  appreciation  of  the  power  and 
the  beauty  of  holiness,  we  certainly  want  a  clear  under 
standing  of  the  thing. 

Holiness,  then,  in  the  first  place,  is  not  to  be  confounded 
with  virtue.  Nor  is  any  disparagement  cast  upon  virtue 
by  affirming  this  distinction.  They  are  names  of  two 
things,  not  one  and  the  same.  They  do  not  express  the 
same  quality  in  character.  They  rest  on  different  capa 
cities  in  human  nature,  —  virtue  on  the  conscience,  holi 
ness  on  faith.  They  are  fed  from  different  fountains,  — 
virtue  from  moral  principle,  holiness  from  communion 
with  God  in  Christ.  They  may  be  guided  by  different 

8=* 


90  HOLINESS    TO    THE    LORD. 

directors ;  virtue  depending  more  on  self-will,  as  is  inti 
mated  in  the  classical  origin  of  the  word,  where  it  ex 
pressed  the  special  characteristic  of  the  Roman  mind, 
which  was  a  certain  honorable,  proud  high-mindedness, 
but  Pagan  and  not  Christian,  and  where  it  was  nearly 
synonymous  with  valor,  or  such  fidelity  as  depends  on 
personal  courage.  Holiness,  on  the  other  hand,  implies 
a  subjection  of  self-will,  and  the  presence  of  those  spirit 
ual  attributes,  like  humility,  forgiveness,  and  religious 
submission,  which  are  peculiar  to  Christianity.  Holiness 
requires  virtue,  as  one  of  its  ingredients ;  no  man  can  be 
holy  without  being  virtuous.  But  virtue,  on  the  contrary, 
is  often  found,  temporarily  and  in  individuals,  dissociated 
from  holiness;  an  ordinary  congregation  embraces  two 
or  three  times  as  many  virtuous  hearts  as  holy  ones. 
You  can  mark  this  distinction  among  professions  not 
theological.  Wherever  an  individual  comes  whose  life 
is  under  the  influence  of  daily  communion  with  his  God, 
you  feel  that  there  is  a  signet  on  his  character,  differing 
from  that  of  the  best  man  whose  conduct  acknowledges 
no  higher  principle  than  a  correct  morality ;  and  most  of 
us,  I  presume,  would  readily  agree  that  the  former  charac 
ter  is  of  the  nobler  stamp.  Before  his  conversion,  there  is 
no  evidence  that  Paul  was  not  rigidly,  even  Pharisaically, 
virtuous.  But  he  did  not  ascend  into  the  purer  dignity 
of  holiness,  till  the  voice  and  the  light  from  heaven  un 
sealed  his  spiritual  eyesight,  and  converted  him  to  Christ. 
His  conscience  was  scrupulous,  but  not  sanctified,  and  so 
it  let  him  persecute  and  hate  Christians.  Simon  Magus, 
for  anything  that  appears  to  the  contrary,  may  have  been 
a  virtuous  citizen  of  Samaria ;  yet  he  thought  the  gift  of 
the  Holy  Spirit  could  be  purchased  with  money,  and  had 
to  learn  from  Peter  that  he  needed  repentance  and 


HOLINESS    TO    THE    LORD.  91 

prayers  for  forgiveness  before  he  could  have  part  or  lot 
in  holiness,  because  his  heart  was  not  right  in  the 
sight  of  God.  This,  I  suppose,  was  the  distinction  in 
the  Apostle's  mind,  when  he  said  that  for  a  righteous, 
correct,  or  virtuous  man,  one  would  scarcely  volunteer  to 
die;  while  for  a  good  or  holy  man,  —  so  much  more 
impressive  and  affecting  is  that  type  of  character,  —  some 
would  even  dare  to  die.  Holiness  to  the  Lord  is  not 
complacency  towards  men. 

Do  not  suspect  me  of  exalting  Paul  at  the  expense  of 
James,  —  nor  of  pleading  for  religion  by  the  poor  trick 
of  undervaluing  morality.  I  think  Christ's  Church  will 
never  return  to  that  error.  What  I  claim  for  the  spirit 
ual  principle  is  that  it  is  the  natural  root,  and  in  a  wide 
reach,  and  the  'long  run,  the  only  infallible  supporter, 
of  the  moral  principle.  If  I  wanted  to  convert  a  pagan 
people  to  virtue,  I  would  first  try  to  rouse  in  them  some 
vital  sense  of  God.  And  in  behalf  of  that  method,  I 
would  be  as  willing  to  pledge  philosophy  as  the  Gospel. 
As  fast  as  our  nominal  Christendom  loses  its  hold  on 
God,  by  faith,  it  is  preparing  the  final  downfall  of  its 
good  morals.  Holiness  is  the  essential  root.  Virtue  is 
the  essential  fruit. 

The  same  discrimination  ought  to  be  made,  only 
more  sharply,  between  all  those  negative  epithets  where 
by  we  describe  persons  that  avoid  trespasses  against  the 
conventional  rules  of  honesty,  or  against  the  common 
canons  of  respectability,  on  one  side,  and  holiness  on  the 
other.  It  is  an  offence  against  the  Eternal  Spirit,  to  con 
found  these  mixtures  of  prudence,  self-esteem,  worldly 
sagacity,  natural  benevolence,  or  refined  Epicureanism, 
or  even  moral  innocence,  with  that  spiritual  affection 
which  is  as  real  and  as  positive  and  as  practical  as  any 


92  HOLINESS    TO    THE    LORD. 

of  them,  diviner  than  any,  and  which  comes  only  by  de 
vout  communion  with  the  spirit  God  gives  through  his 
Son,  creating  a  new  life.  We  ought  not  to  be  long  in 
learning  that  it  is  a  very  insufficient  tribute  we  pay  to 
the  finished  life  of  a  companion,  when  we  can  only  say 
over  his  grave,  that  he  paid  his  debts,  provided  well  for 
his  family,  and  escaped  disgrace.  If  we  lived  in  a  com 
munity  of  Calmuc  Tartars,  or  had  received  our  notions 
of  character  under  Arabs  and  brigands,  this  would  be  a 
legitimate  title  to  distinction.  But  what  an  equivocal 
comment  on  all  our  Christian  civilization,  if  by  this  time 
it  has  only  educated  us  up  to  the  point  of  eulogizing,  as 
signal  examples  of  a  right  life,  men  that  have  not  cheat 
ed,  nor  robbed,  nor  broken  their  marriage  vows,  nor 
abused  their  lips  by  lying  and  profanity !  Brethren, 
Providence  has  called  us  children  of  a  purer  light  It 
becomes  us  to  be  awake  to  it.  Our  funeral  honors,  and 
our  admirations  of  the  living,  ought  to  be  graduated  by 
a  stricter  scale.  A  nation  that  has  been  turning  over  the 
leaves  of  the  New  Testament,  writing  commentaries, 
establishing  Sunday  schools,  organizing  Bible  societies, 
supporting  churches,  for  two  hundred  years  and  more, 
with  no  religious  disabilities  to  compromise  its  progress, 
ought  to  have  marched  beyond  the  childishness  of  rating 
its  saints  by  the  standard  of  social  decency,  and  of  canon 
izing  honesty.  Honesty  is  no  mean  thing,  and  not  too 
common  ;  but  because  the  rudiments  of  Christian  charac 
ter  are  noble,  is  that  a  reason  why  we  should  linger  in 
the  rudiments  for  ever,  and  not  press  forward,  perfecting 
holiness  in  the  fear  of  God  ?  "  These  ought  ye  to  have 
done,  and  not  to  leave  the  other  undone."  The  whole  aim 
of  Christ's  teachings  is  to  carry  up  the  purposes  and  lives 
of  his  disciples,  above  the  legal  virtue  of  Jews  and  Phar- 


HOLINESS    TO    THE    LORD.  93 

isees,  to  that  spiritual  purity  which  is  the  express  product 
of  repentance,  prayer,  and  faith.  "  God  hath  called  us  to 
holiness." 

Holiness,  then,  is  that  attribute  which  is  the  very 
crown  of  all  the  culture  of  humanity ;  for  it  carries  the 
soul  up  nearest  to  the  everlasting  Fountain  of  wisdom, 
power,  goodness,  from  which  it  came.  It  enters  in  only 
where  repentance  opens  the  way,  and  spiritual  renewal 
puts  the  heart  into  wholesome  relations  with  the  Divine 
will.  It  is  the  peculiar  gift  for  which  the  world  stands 
indebted  to  revelation,  and  it  is  multiplied  just  in  pro 
portion  as  the  heart  is  formed  into  the  likeness  of  Christ's. 
It  is  the  summit  of  manhood,  but  no  less  the  grace  of 
God.  It  is  achieved  by  effort,  because  your  free-will 
must  use  the  means  that  secure  it ;  and  it  is  equally  the 
benignant  inspiration  of  that  Father  who  hears  every 
patient  petition.  It  belongs  to  that  statesman,  and  only 
that  one,  who  worships  in  his  closet  before  he  ascends 
the  tribunal,  and  who  feels  the  hall  of  legislation,  as 
often  as  he  enters  it,  to  be  a  fore-court  of  the  heavenly 
audience-chamber,  whose  foundations  are  justice  and 
judgment ;  it  belongs  to  that  magistrate,  and  only  that 
one,  who  is  made  fit  to  govern  or  to  judge  by  personal 
consecration  to  the  Master,  who  will  reckon  for  his  stew 
ardship  by  immaculate  statutes  ;  to  that  merchant,  and 
only  that  one,  who  holds  a  daily  commerce  with  the  Al 
mighty  Author  of  just  balances  and  the  Avenger  of  wrong, 
and  whose  trading-house,  with  its  least  transactions,  lies 
consciously  open  to  the  inspection  of  the  undeceived 
Accountant ;  to  that  laborer,  and  only  that  one,  who 
labors  for  the  meat  that  perisheth  with  less  zeal  than 
for  that  which  endureth  unto  everlasting  life  ;  to  that 
woman,  and  only  to  her,  whose  morning  devotions  dedi- 


94  HOLINESS    TO    THE    LORD. 

cate  the  house  she  keeps  as  a  domestic  temple,  and  who, 
remembering  that  favor  is  deceitful  and  beauty  vain, 
prizes  no  favor  like  His  who  was  the  friend  of  Mary  and 
Martha,  nor  any  beauty  like  the  beauty  of  holiness. 

My  second  inquiry  asks  how  holiness,  the  spiritual 
element  in  character,  is  gained.  Not  by  enchantments. 
Not  by  mystical  openings  that  pour  it  into  the  passive 
soul,  as  summer  showers  fill  lifeless  cisterns.  Not  by 
constitutional  predispositions ;  for  it  fits  every  organi 
zation,  and  is  impartially  designed  for  every  experience. 
Not  by  strange,  anomalous,  interior  spasms,  that  set 
aside  all  the  regular  action  of  our  powers,  and  jerk  the 
heart  into  conversion  hysterically.  It  is  as  much  con 
formed  to  regular  methods  as  any  accomplishment  or 
enterprise  in  the  world.  It  is  as  beautifully  reducible  to 
order  and  fixed  conditions,  as  the  mastery  of  a  science 
or  the  planting  of  a  colony.  Holiness  is  subject  to  Law, 
both  in  its  birth  and  its  growth. 

And  the  first  principle  of  that  spiritual  economy  is 
this :  it  must  be  taken  up  as  an  express,  specific  work. 
Holiness,  I  say,  —  nay,  God  says,  —  must  be  a  special 
object.  It  is  very  essential,  as  the  progress  of  the  subject 
will  remind  us  presently,  to  diffuse  it,  when  we  have  it, 
into  all  parts  of  our  life  ;  but  the  first  purpose  is  to  get  it, 
to  know  what  it  is  that  we  may  get  it,  and  not  so  to  mix 
it  confusedly  with  mere  proprieties  of  behavior  and  amia 
bilities  of  temper,  that  we  shall  imagine  we  have  kept  all 
that  holy  law  which  is  exceeding  broad  when  we  have 
only  washed  the  outside  of  our  conventional  cups  and 
platters,  or  swept  up  and  down  the  aisles  of  a  church 
covered  with  invisible  phylacteries,  —  phylacteries  which 
will  some  day  show,  under  hotter  trial,  just  as  the  fire 
brings  out  the  characters  of  an  invisible  ink.  The  young 


HOLINESS    TO   THE    LORD.  95 

man  who  has  not  begun  to  take  into  special  and  particu 
lar  concern  the  discipline  of  his  character  into  holiness, 
has  left  out  the  chief  element  in  his  being,  and  has  laid 
his  plans  for  living,  forgetting  his  inmost  life.  Holiness 
presents  that  side  of  us  which  joins  on  upon  eternity, 
opens  into  heaven,  and  makes  us  kindred  to  God.  It 
is  not  to  be  had  without  an  aim,  a  purpose,  a  steady 
looking  and  striving  to  that  end.  It  never  was  obtained 
by  a  few  desultory  snatches  of  sober  reflection,  hastily 
dismissed,  —  a  few  vague  impressions,  in  churches  or 
cemeteries,  —  a  few  intermittent  demonstrations  in  the 
way  of  a  charity  collection,  after-dinner  good-nature,  or 
summer-evening  philosophy.  It  must  be  treated  like  an 
interest,  a  pursuit,  a  profession.  It  is  the  great  livelihood 
of  your  heart.  It  'is  the  vocation  of  your  soul.  It  is  the 
practical  handicraft  of  your  inner  man.  It  must  be  be 
gun,  followed,  and  never  ended.  Resolve,  deliberation, 
continuous  effort,  are  its  motor  powers.  All  your  mem 
bers  are  its  flexile  instruments.  The  Bible  is  its  text 
book.  Morning,  evening,  noon,  all  the  circling  hours, 
are  its  periods  of  exercise.  Prayer  is  its  rehearsal.  God 
answering  is  its  Teacher.  Christ  is  its  Pattern.  Spe 
cial,  express,  intentional,  must  the  striving  after  holiness 
be,  in  order  to  secure  it,  like  every  glorious  consumma 
tion  in  the  world's  history,  like  every  solid  triumph  in 
individual  advancement. 

And  then  this  crowning  grace  and  central  strength  of 
character  must  be  sought  by  a  direct  process.  Astron 
omy  is  not  learned  by  probing  down  among  the  soils 
and  rocks  of  the  planet  we  occupy.  Chemistry  is  not 
mastered  by  studying  trigonometry.  Painting  is  not 
learned  by  handling  a  chisel.  Men  aspiring  to  excel 
lence  in  mechanics  do  not  go  to  sea ;  nor  do  sailors  take 


96  HOLINESS    TO    THE    LORD. 

their  apprenticeship  in  a  smithery.  Yet  there  seems  to  be 
a  common  conceit,  that,  by  hard  following  after  all  man 
ner  of  material  success  and  welfare,  the  spiritual  nature 
in  us  will  grow  strong  and  beautiful.  Now,  for  spiritual 
attainments  there  are  spiritual  faculties ;  just  as  for  me 
chanical  attainments  there  are  mechanical  faculties,  and 
for  success  in  acquisition,  acquisitive  faculties.  Nothing 
need  be  said  of  their  rank  ;  for  if  you  admit  their  exist 
ence  at  all,  you  must  grant  their  supremacy.  But  they 
are  to  be  waked  and  opened.  They  await  nurture  and 
expansion.  Do  not  come  to  the  recognition  and  train 
ing  of  them  by  any  sidelong  indirection,  nor  imagine 
it  impossible.  Do  not  suppose  your  love  of  God  will 
grow,  because  you  are  faithful  to  your  counting-room. 
Do  not  think  your  feeble  reverence  for  the  Everlasting 
Right  and  Good  will  strengthen,  because  you  excel  in 
your  art,  or  take  a  premium  for  mechanism  or  horticulture, 
or  foresee  next  month's  market.  Do  riot  hope  for  the 
peace  unspeakable  which  passeth  knowledge  and  dwells 
in  the  meek  and  contrite  spirit,  by  merely  dealing  about 
as  fairly  as  your  neighbors,  and  paying  what  the  law 
says  you  owe.  Rise  to  loftier  designs.  Remember, 
spiritual  things  are  spiritually  discerned.  Answers  to 
prayer  cannot  be  had  without  being  prayed  for.  Faith 
will  not  increase,  unless  you  provide  for  faith's  exercise. 
You  will  not  enter  into  fellowship  with  Christ  Jesus, 
except  you  seek  his  society.  You  will  not  behold  the 
kingdom  of  Heaven,  unless  you  direct  your  eye,  and 
fix  it  there.  And  it  is  the  universal  maxim  of  all  manly 
and  candid  seeking,  to  go  straight  to  the  very  object 
you  would  gain.  By  the  same  rule  only  is  the  new  man 
created  in  holiness. 

Still   another   means   of  forming  this   highest   grace 


HOLINESS    TO    THE    LORD.  97 

upon  character,  is  to  place  ourselves  in  contact  with  the 
providential  instruments  that  foster  it,  —  those  divine 
helps  that  favor  it.  It  was  on  the  high-priest's  front 
let,  —  the  plate  of  pure  gold  before  his  mitre,  surmount 
ing  all  his  holy  garments,  the  splendid  investiture  of  his 
office,  the  robe  and  ephod,  the  girdle,  the  Urim  and 
Thummim,  the  onyx-stones  whereon  the  names  of  the 
twelve  tribes  were  written,  —  it  was  over  all  these,  that 
the  august  inscription  was  graven,  like  the  engravings  of 
a  signet,  Holiness  to  the  Lord.  According  to  that  Le- 
vitic  ritual,  the  priest  passing  away  prefigured  the  ever- 
living  Messiah,  and  the  furniture  of  his  sacerdotal  function 
symbolized  the  simpler  and  grander  forms  of  the  Chris 
tian  Church.  For  every  peculiar  organized  work  there 
is  wanted  a  system  of  means.  Culture  implies  a  cultus  ; 
education,  a  school ;  agriculture,  a  seed-time  and  harvest, 
as  well  as  a  soil  and  sun ;  chemistry,  a  laboratory ;  lit 
erature,  a  library ;  moral  experience,  a  moral  discipline. 
So  the  spiritual  life  wants  certain  appointments,  ordi 
nances,  to  be  the  outlines  of  an  institution  where  it  shall 
get  nurture.  God  has  not  mocked  the  soul  with  a  false 
aspiration.  As  we  have  our  being  under  the  two  grand 
external  conditions  of  time  and  space,  he  has  carved  a 
monument  and  a  treasury  out  of  each,  for  the  replenish 
ing  of  our  fidelity  ;  a  holy  day,  and  a  holy  place,  through 
which  the  Holy  Spirit  may  multiply  holiness  in  us.  A 
supernatural  philosophy,  adapting  the  framework  of  our 
worship  to  our  worshipping  necessities!  The  Church, 
with  its  simple  ceremonies,  its  Sabbath  and  Sanctuary, 
its  Baptism  and  Communion,  meeting  the  soul's  unper- 
verted  wants,  is  the  house  built  for  the  new  man,  as  con 
venient  and  genial  to  his  regenerate  life  as  the  dwelling 
that  welcomes  the  new-born  child,  and  shelters  the  natu- 

9 


98  HOLINESS    TO    THE    LORD. 

ral  one.  These  venerable,  permanent  ordinances  are  like 
fixed  channels,  through  which  our  Lord  has  poured  his 
selectest  influences  down  the  field  of  the  world.  If  we, 
workers  in  the  vineyard,  would  receive  the  gift,  drink  of 
that  water  of  life  which  slakes  the  immortal  thirst,  we 
must  come  where  the  channel  runs,  reach  out  our  hand 
to  the  stream,  touch  and  taste  at  the  brink.  Specific 
means  for  a  specific  result.  The  Church  organizes  our 
spiritual  life,  drills  its  desultory  habits,  systematizes 
its  irregular  impulses,  turns  it  into  peace,  order,  effi 
ciency.  Without  conscious  vitality  in  themselves,  its 
observances  act  through  laws  of  association  and  impres 
sion  wrought  into  the  fibre  of  our  being,  so  as  to  enkindle 
that  life  in  the  believer.  Their  influence  depends  on 
two  things,  —  a  cordial,  receptive  heart,  and  a  faithful  use. 
Nothing  in  themselves,  they  are  clothed  with  power  by 
the  spiritual  reaction  they  stimulate  in  our  souls.  Holi 
ness  is  of  the  spirit ;  but  these  are  God's  way,  and  suited 
to  our  constitution,  of  making  the  spirit  holier. 

I  have  mentioned  a  third  question,  lying  in  the  path 
of  my  subject :  —  Where  is  this  Holiness  to  be  exer 
cised  ?  The  fountain  being  replenished  .by  the  pouring 
out  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  in  answer  to  our  seekings  and 
our  struggles,  Christ's  holiness  is  to  be  reproduced  in  us, 
and  sent  forth  again  to  bless  the  world.  And  so  there  is 
a  law  of  its  manifestation.  Indeed,  the  exercise  or  prac 
tice  of  holiness,  as  I  have  intimated,  is  a  chief  means  of 
its  reduplication.  To  use  what  we  possess  is  the  surest 
way  of  being  enriched  with  more ;  for  unto  him  that 
hath  shall  be  given  ;  and  the  best  preparation  for  right 
living  to-morrow,  is  to  live  rightly  to-day. 

Holiness  was  meant,  our  New  Testament  tells  us,  for 
every-day  use.  It  is  home-made  and  home-worn.  Its 


HOLINESS    TO    THE    LORD.  99 

exercise  hardens  the  bone,  and  strengthens  the  muscle, 
in  the  body  of  character.  Holiness  is  religion  shining. 
It  is  the  candle  lighted,  and  not  hid  under  a  bushel,  but 
lighting  the  house.  It  is  religious  principle  put  into  mo 
tion.  It  is  the  love  of  God  sent  forth  into  circulation,  on 
the  feet,  and  with  the  hands,  of  love  to  man.  It  is  faith 
gone  to  work.  It  is  charity  coined  into  actions,  and  de 
votion  breathing  benedictions  on  human  suffering,  while 
it  goes  up  in  intercessions  to  the  Father  of  all  pity. 
Prayers  that  show  no  answers  in  better  lives  are  not  true 
prayers.  We  took  some  pains  at  the  outset  to  see  that 
holiness  is  not  to  be  confounded  with  mere  kind  and  cor 
rect  behaving,  since  the  love  of  God  is  not  to  be  ob 
scured  in  the  love  of  man,  and  morality  without  piety 
has  lost  its  root ;  but  also  with  the  qualification,  which 
we  must  now  revive  and  keep  before  us,  that,  of  these 
two  forces  in  the  Christian  life,  both  are  indispensable. 
Of  religion  without  holiness  —  or  the  spurious  pretence 
current  under  that  name  —  the  world  has  seen  enough ; 
it  has  more  than  once  made  society,  with  all  its  reforms, 
go  backward ;  it  has  sharpened  the  spear  of  the  scorner, 
and  sealed  the  sceptic's  unbelief.  It  has  hidden  the 
Church  from  the  market.  It  has  gone  to  the  conference 
and  the  communion-table,  as  to  a  sacred  wardrobe, 
where  badges  are  borrowed  to  cloak  the  iniquities  of 
trade.  It  has  said  to  many  an  outcast  and  oppressed 
class,  u  Stand  by  thyself ;  the  Master's  feast  is  for  me, 
and  not  for  you."  It  has  thinned  the  ranks  of  open  dis 
ciples,  and  treacherously  offered  to  objectors  the  vantage- 
ground  of  honesty.  My  friends,  get  faith,  and  then  use 
it.  Gain  holiness,  and  wear  it.  Pray  ;  and  watch  while 
you  pray.  Keep  the  Sabbath ;  keep  it  so  carefully  that 
it  shall  keep  you  all  the  week,  —  a  mutual  friendship. 


100  HOLINESS    TO    THE    LORD. 

Come  to  the  church  ;  come  to  carry  the  church  back  with 
you,  not  in  its  professions  nor  its  external  credit,  but  its 
interior  substance,  into  a  consistent  holiness. 

Constant,  then,  but  earnest,  —  even,  but  laborious,  — 
familiar,  but  positive,  —  and  universal,  but  also  de 
cided,  —  must  that  manifestation  of  holiness  be,  if  it  is 
to  bear  the  tests  of  Christ's  inspection. 

Holiness  to  the  Lord !  where  is  that  inscription  to  be 
stamped  now  ?  Not  on  the  vestments  of  any  Levitical 
order ;  not  on  plates  of  sacerdotal  gold,  worn  upon  the 
forehead.  Priest  and  Levite  have  passed  by.  The  Jew 
ish  tabernacle  has  expanded  into  that  world-wide  brother 
hood,  where  whosoever  doeth  righteousness  is  accepted. 
Morning  has  risen  into  day.  Are  we  children  of  that 
day  ?  For  form,  we  have  spirit ;  for  Gerizim  and  Zion, 
our  common  scenery.  The  ministry  of  Aaron  is  ended. 
His  ephod,  with  its  gold,  and  blue,  and  purple,  and 
scarlet,  and  fine  twined  linen,  and  cunning  work,  has 
faded  and  dropped.  The  curious  girdle,  and  its  chains 
of  wreathen  gold,  are  broken.  The  breastplate  of  judg 
ment  that  lay  against  his  heart,  and  its  fourfold  row 
of  triple  jewels,  —  of  sardius,  topaz,  and  carbuncle,  — 
of  emerald,  sapphire,  and  diamond,  —  of  ligure,  agate, 
and  amethyst,  —  of  beryl,  onyx,  and  jasper,  —  has  been 
crushed  and  lost.  The  pomegranates  are  cast  aside  like 
untimely  fruit.  The  golden  bells  are  silent.  Even  the 
mitre,  with  its  sacred  signet,  and  the  grace  of  the  fashion 
of  it,  has  perished.  All  the  outward  glory  and  beauty  of 
that  Hebrew  worship  which  the  Lord  commanded  Moses 
has  vanished  into  the  eternal  splendors  of  the  Gospel, 
and  been  fulfilled  in  Christ.  What  teaching  has  it  left  ? 
What  other  than  this  ?  —  that  we  are  to  engrave  our  "  Ho 
liness  to  the  Lord,"  first  on  the  heart,  and  then  on  all  that 


HOLINESS    TO    THE    LORD.  101 

the  heart  goes  out  into,  through  the  brain  and  the  hand : 
on  the  plates  of  gold  our  age  of  enterprise  is  drawing  up 
from  mines  and  beating  into  currency ;  on  bales  of  mer 
chandise  and  books  of  account ;  on  the  tools  and  bench 
of  every  handicraft ;  on  your  weights  and  measures  ;  on 
pen  and  plough  and  pulpit;  on  the  door-posts  of  your 
houses,  and  the  utensils  of  your  table,  and  the  walls  of 
your  chambers;  on  cradle  and  playthings  and  school- 
books  ;  on  the  locomotives  of  enterprise,  and  the  bells  of 
the  horses,  and  the  ships  of  navigation  ;  on  music-halls 
and  libraries ;  on  galleries  of  art,  and  the  lyceum  desk ; 
on  all  of  man's  inventing  and  building,  all  of  his  using 
and  enjoying ;  for  all  these  are  trusts  in  a  stewardship, 
for  which  the  Lord  of  the  servants  reckoneth. 

Brethren,  it  is  written  that,  while  our  fathers  according 
to  the  flesh  have  corrected  us  after  their  pleasure,  God 
chastens  us  for  our  profit,  —  and  for  what,  but  that  we 
might  be  partakers  of  his  own  holiness  ?  The  transcen 
dent  privileges  of  sorrow !  It  is  for  you  and  me  to  con 
sider,  whether  this  peculiar  trait  in  a  Christian  character 
is  losing  anything  of  its  primary  honor ;  whether,  in  the 
deserved  esteem  rendered  to  upright  and  philanthropic 
men,  to  useful  and  benevolent  women,  Christians  them 
selves  are  letting  the  higher  order  of  holy  men  and  holy 
women  cease  and  be  forgotten.  If  holiness  is  gradually 
lost  in  civil  accomplishments,  be  sure  God  will  finally 
be  forgotten  in  his  creature.  Then  human  reputation  is 
supplanting  the  divine  favor.  Comfort  is  usurping  the 
throne  of  faith.  Humanity  is  losing  its  grandeur.  In 
troductions  to  the  court  of  fashion  will  be  preferred  before 
the  penitence  that  kneels  at  the  foot  of  the  cross.  Cer 
tificates  of  office  and  inventories  of  wealth  will  be  dearer 
possessions  than  the  secret  witnessings  of  the  spirit. 


102  HOLINESS    TO    THE    LORD. 

The  old  sentence  out  of  Heaven,  "  Except  ye  repent,  ye 
perish,"  will  be  rendered  into  the  softer  invitation  of  the 
Tempter,  —  "  Soul,  take  thine  ease ;  much  goods  and 
many  years  are  heaven  enough." 

Such  tendencies  it  is  our  part  to  resist,  by  a  personal 
correction  of  our  hearts.  Personal  motives  enough  plead 
for  it,  —  motives  that  lie  closest  to  the  conscience  :  per 
sonal  immortality  and  personal  peace.  For  now,  says 
the  Apostle,  when  ye  are  made  "  free  from  sin,  and  be 
come  servants  to  God,  ye  have  your  fruit  unto  holiness, 
and  the  end,  everlasting  life."  "  Without  holiness,  no 
man  shall  see  the  Lord." 

And  now,  may  God  himself  make  you  to  increase  and 
abound  in  love  toward  all  men,  to  the  end  he  may  stab- 
lish  your  hearts  unblamably  in  holiness,  at  the  coming 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ ! 


SEEMON    VIII. 

SATAN     TRANSFORMED. 


FOR     SATAN     HIMSELF     IS     TRANSFORMED     INTO     AN      ANGEL     OF 

LIGHT.  —  2  Cor.  xi.  14. 


I  SHALL  best  open  my  subject  by  two  Scriptural  exam 
ples,  which  both  define  and  illustrate  it. 

Early  in  the  night  before  the  crucifixion,  Jesus  has  re 
tired  from  the  chamber  of  the  Last  Supper  in  Jerusalem 
to  a  lonely  spot  on  the  Mount  of  Olives,  with  a  few  of 
his  followers.  His  prophetic  mind  foresees  the  awful 
scenes  of  the  next  day,  —  scenes  in  which  he  is  himself 
to  be  the  victim  and  the  sufferer.  It  is  impossible  that 
some  feeling  of  desolation  should  not  come  over  the  spirit 
even  of  the  Son  of  Man,  in  such  an  hour  and  with  such 
a  prospect.  His  sense  of  loneliness  is  only  made  deeper 
by  knowing  that  one  of  his  chosen  disciples  is  at  that 
very  moment  betraying  him,  and  that  before  morning 
another,  and  one  of  the  trustiest  and  most  ardent  of 
them  all,  shall  disown  him.  The  touching  words  of  one 
of  the  old  prophets  of  his  nation  come  solemnly  to  his 
mind,  and,  as  the  night-wind  of  the  mountain  moans  by 
the  anxious  group,  he  repeats  them,  with  a  calm  voice, 
aloud:  "All  ye  shall  be  offended  because  of  me  this 
night ;  for  it  is  written,  I  will  smite  the  Shepherd,  and 


104  SATAN    TRANSFORMED. 

the  sheep  shall  be  scattered."  The  pathos  of  this  mourn 
ful  quotation  affects  the  quick  sensibilities  of  the  affec 
tionate,  impulsive  Peter,  and  he  breaks  out  into  an  im 
passioned  and  confident  pledge  of  devotion :  "  Though 
all  men  shall  be  offended  because  of  thee,  yet  will  I  never 
be  offended."  Jesus  replies,  in  the  same  sad  but  serene 
and  premonitory  tone :  "  This  night,  before  the  cock-crow 
ing  announces  another  day,  thou  shalt  deny  me  thrice." 
Peter  returns  a  warmer  and  intenser  affirmation :  "  Though 
I  should  die  with  thee,  yet  will  I  not  deny  thee." 

So  far  the  temptation  has  not  tried  Peter.  The  shame 
ful  sin  he  is  about  to  commit  has  only  been  put  before 
him  in  words.  He  is  appalled  at  its  enormity ;  recoils 
from  it ;  and,  if  it  should  only  come  to  him  in  that  open, 
direct  way,  that  undisguised  shape,  he  would  be  able  to 
say  firmly,  "  Get  thee  behind  me,"  and  cling  faithfully 
to  his  Master.  But  the  real  temptation  when  it  comes 
does  not  come  openly,  directly ;  it  almost  never  comes 
so.  It  comes  to  him  when  he  is  off  his  guard,  comes  ob 
liquely,  comes  under  another  name,  comes  in  a  maid-ser 
vant's  impertinence  irritating  his  pride,  and  in  the  taunts 
of  the  by-standers  insulting  his  honor.  And  thus  it  mas 
ters  him.  The  crime  that  looked  so  hateful  in  its  own 
features  he  embraces  in  its  thin  disguise.  The  tempter 
came  obliquely ;  and  he  is  false  to  the  beloved  Christ  he 
.was  ready  to  die  for.  Cursing  and  swearing  crowned 
the  guilt  of  his  perfidy  ;  and  while  the  day  was  breaking 
in  the  sky,  the  bitter  tears  of  his  remorse  were  falling  on 
the  pavement  of  the  palace. 

There  is  a  parallel  instance  in  one  of  the  old  Syrian 
kings.  When  Hazael  was  only  an  officer  in  King  Ben- 
hadad's  court,  the  Prophet  Elisha  one  day  wept  before 
him.  And  when  Hazael  asked,  "  Why  weepeth  my 


SATAN    TRANSFORMED.  105 

lord?"  "Because  I  know,"  answered  the  prophet,  "the 
evil  that  thou  wilt  hereafter  do  unto  the  children  of  Israel," 
—  and  proceeded  to  picture  before  him  the  pillage,  the 
slaughter,  the  burnings,  the  murders,  and  all  the  savage 
cruelties  the  young  man  should  be  guilty  of,  when  he 
should  sit  on  Benhadad's  throne.  Hazael  is  shocked  at 
this  bald  statement  of  his  future  crimes,  and  exclaims, 
"  Is  thy  servant  a  dog,  that  he  should  do  these  inhuman 
things  ?  "  Time  ran  on ;  temptation  began  to  put  on  its 
various  disguises  ;  it  came  in  the  fascinating  forms  of  the 
love  of  power,  empire,  splendor,  royal  authority,  national 
honor,  military  prowess,  —  came,  that  is,  circuitously ;  and 
in  the  historic  sequel  we  find  Hazael  with  the  blood  of 
murder  on  his  hands,  and  the  oppressor's  infamy  upon 
his  grave. 

We  shall  do  quite  well  to  personify  the  forces  of  sin 
and  the  seductive  influences  of  temptation  under  the 
concrete  term,  Satan.  So  long  as  we  all  know  what  we 
mean,  so  long  as  we  understand  perfectly  that  this  king 
dom  of  darkness  and  the  prince  of  it,  this  "  Devil  and  his 
angels,"  are  all  carried  about  within  the  unholy  heart,  it 
will  be  quite  as  true  to  the  fact,  as  much  according  to  the 
analogies  of  all  forcible  language,  to  say  Satan,  as  to  use 
certain  abstract  words  standing  for  vague  tendencies  and 
general  qualities. 

But  we  need  a  new  theory  of  Satan,  more  profound 
and  more  penetrating  than  the  old  fables  of  nursery  tra 
dition  give  us  ;  more  in  accordance  with  the  spiritual  in 
sight  gained  under  our  Christian  culture.  This  power 
of  evil  that  besets  us,  this  compound  force  of  passion  and 
materialism,  selfishness  and  appetite,  an  unhallowed  am 
bition  and  an  unspiritual  flesh,  is  not  a  less  fearful,  but  a 
much  more  terrible,  because  a  more  cunning  adversary, 


106  SATAN    TRANSFORMED. 

than  the  old  imagery  represented  it.  It  was  but  a  shal 
low  device,  and  showed  a  very  inadequate  conception  of 
devilish  art,  to  represent  Satan  a  hideous  and  repulsive 
figure,  with  frightful  marks  to  be  recognized  by,  with  a 
beastly  foot  to  certify  his  track,  and  all  concentrated  ma 
lignities  on  his  distorted  features.  Why,  men  would  run 
from  such  ugliness  by  instinct ;  and  if  this  were  the  type 
of  evil,  it  could  never  come  near  enough  to  tempt  us. 
Our  virtue  would  be  safe  against  a  seducer  that  inspired 
.nothing  but  disgust.  In  the  real  Satan,  we  must  look 
for  a  shrewder  cunning,  a  more  subtle  diplomacy,  a  more 
politic  disguise.  Whatever  he  may  have  been  to  the  su 
perstitious  fears  of  ruder  ages,  to  try  the  temper  of  the 
nineteenth  century  he  takes  on  the  address  of  a  courtier, 
the  self-possession  of  a  man  of  the  world,  the  royal  dig 
nity  of  a  prince,  the  beauty  of  a  seraph,  and  the  manners 
of  a  gentleman.  If  you  meet  him  now,  —  and  meet  him 
you  certainly  will  to-morrow  and  to-day,  —  he  will  be 
transformed  into  an  angel  of  light.  And  as  with  Peter 
and  Hazael,  so  with  you  and  me,  it  is  the  policy  of  the 
tempter  to  steal  upon  us  by  degrees,  little  by  little,  and 
by  roundabout  approaches,  till  we  are  taken  in  his  net. 

Except  he  is  utterly  lost  from  decency,  and  abandoned 
to  the  infernal  passions,  which  very  few  even  of  bad  men 
are,  a  man  will  not  set  up  an  atrocious  aim  before 
his  own  eyes,  and  move  straight  towards  it.  He  must 
partly  conceal  his  wrong  purpose,  even  from  himself.  He 
must  find  an  honest  name  to  associate  with  his  dishonest 
dealings,  even  in  his  own  habits  of  thinking  about  them, 
or  else,  in  some  careless  moment,  he  will  betray  his  secret 
to  the  acquaintances  he  is  practising  upon.  He  must 
tamper  a  little  with  his  own  conscience,  and  half  convince 
himself  that  the  evil  in  him  can  bear  some  favorable  con- 


SATAN    TRANSFORMED.  107 

struction,  or  he  will  not  be  able  to  put  on  the  saintly 
look  to  impose  on  the  world  about  him  with.  The 
treacherous  demon  in  him  will  peer  out  through  his 
guilty  eyes,  or  tremble  in  his  lying  tongue,  or  give  some 
public  advertisement  of  itself  by  the  twitch  of  his  agi 
tated  muscles.  For  God  has  so  made  all  the  parts  of 
this  human  creature  to  sympathize  together,  that  when 
the  spirit  in  us  sins,  the  body  over  it  is  shaken ;  when 
the  inward  law  is  violated,  the  material  vesture  is  dis 
turbed.  A  pallid  face  reveals  the  corruption  of  the. 
heart;  tremulous  nerves,  like  magnetic  wires,  convey 
abroad  the  swift  exposure  of  the  criminal  intent;  —  just 
as  sympathetic  earthquakes  undulated  through  the  solid 
frame  of  the  world  when  ingratitude  crucified  its  Re 
deemer  ;  — just  as  when  Eve  reached  forth  her  hand  to  the 
fatal  fruit  in  Eden,  and  plucked  and  ate, 

"  Earth  felt  the  wound,  and  Nature  from  her  seat, 
Sighing  through  all  her  works,  gave  signs  of  woe, 
That  all  was  lost." 

It  is  not  enough,  then,  for  the  success  of  bad  intentions, 
that  they  deceive  the  surrounding  public  ;  they  must  to 
some  extent,  and  first,  deceive  the  breast  that  harbors 
them.  It  is  the  understood  condition  of  all  stage  effect. 
The  skilful  actor  must  lose  himself  in  the  character  he 
assumes.  The  appointments  and  the  costume  of  the 
theatre  must  beguile  his  own  imagination,  till,  in  the 
magic  of  their  transforming  power,  even  his  own  iden 
tity  loses  its  reality,  and  he  is  no  longer  himself,  but  the 
Richard  or  Shylock  or  lago  that  he  personates.  Without 
this  he  will  forget  his  part,  the  charm  of  the  illusion  van 
ishes,  and  all  the  pains  and  the  splendors  of  the  posture- 
master  and  the  scene-shifter  are  reduced  to  plain  deal- 
boards  and  plaster  and  gas  and  paint.  The  kingdom  of 


108  SATAN    TRANSFORMED. 

iniquity  would  never  make  its  way  in  the  world  one 
inch  farther  forward,  if  the  wrong-doers  that  swell  its 
ranks  did  not  first  deceive  themselves.  Men  do  not 
plunge  into  infamy  for  infamy's  sake.  They  must  have 
a  pretext,  and  go  sideways  to  perdition.  We  are  not  a 
race  of  diabolic  fiends,  seeking  hell ;  but  we  are  a  race 
of  assailable  and  tempted  mortals,  by  our  careless  yield- 
ings  to  the  sorceries  of  appetite  turned  away  from 
Heaven. 

The  peculiarity  of  temptation  that  I  would  fix  your 
thoughts  upon  now  is  the  indirectness  of  it,  —  the  cir 
cumventing  policy  by  which  it  conducts  us  to  shoals  of 
shame,  and  into  a  vortex  of  tempests,  while  we  are  all 
the  while  flattering  ourselves  that  we  are  making  a  pros 
perous  voyage. 

Come  down,  then,  below  the  plane  of  action  to  the 
subterranean  springs  of  action,  —  below  superficial  be 
havior  to  the  primitive  stratum  of  motive,  —  below  ap 
pearances  put  on,  to  the  living  soul  that  a  man  is. 

When  a  man  begins  to  sin,  he  begins  with  something 
of  the  original  simplicity  and  sensibility  of  his  nature. 
Accordingly,  whatever  the  wrong  he  is  about  to  do,  he 
does  not  go  about  it  as  being  wrong;  he  tries  first  to 
give  it  some  color  of  right.  He  must  throw  over  it  some 
pretext  or  apology  to  make  it  tolerable  to  the  unper- 
verted  part  of  his  moral  sense.  He  must  fasten  to  it 
some  excusing  title,  make  out  for  it  some  sort  of  claim 
to  respect,  and  thus  provide  a  palliation  to  that  con 
science  in  him  which  would  revolt  at  it  if  it  stood  before 
him  as  naked  guilt.  By  a  succession  of  such  artifices 
we  are  led  on,  step  by  step  and  little  by  little,  to  degrees 
of  sin  which  would  have  shocked  us  if  we  had  seen  their 
full  enormity  from  the  beginning.  Few  men  follow  sin 


SATAN    TRANSFORMED.  109 

as  sin ;  and  yet  how  many  follow  it.  Fewer  still  leap 
into  the  depths  of  degradation  or  crime  by  one  plunge ; 
but  they  are  not  few  that  are  degraded,  and  that  are 
criminal.  The  Bible  account  of  the  Fall  in  paradise 
gives  us  a  key  to  the  whole  secret  of  the  way  and  the 
power  of  temptation.  Sin  besieged  the  human  heart, 
and  carried  it,  and  made  its  fatal  entrance  into  the  world, 
not  as  sin,  but  as  the  means  to  the  knowledge  of  good 
and  evil :  Satan  transformed  into  an  angel  of  light. 

For  want  of  an  unscrupulous  and  a  hardened  con 
science,  to  set  clearly  before  him  the  low  aim  he  is  fol 
lowing,  the  transgressor  seeks  out  one  a  little  more 
honorable  which  it  will  do  to  avow.  Thus,  by  living 
always  below  his  profession  rather  than  above  it,  his  pro 
fessions  themselves  will  come  down  to  the  miry  level  of 
a  besotted  worldliness.  What  is  best  in  him  is  not  set 
up  as  his  rule  and  his  law,  —  his  best  knowledge,  purest 
conceptions,  loftiest  visions  of  goodness,  most  spiritual 
aspirations,  —  but  only  something  that  is  not  quite  the 
worst.  And  by  this  means  he  surely  comes  to  the  worst 
at  last.  He  is  tempted  down  by  a  circuitous  process. 
He  is  dragged  down  through  a  series  of  moral  obliqui 
ties,  as  by  a  winding  staircase,  and,  for  want  of  a  steady 
principle  and  an  upward  faith,  he  drops  at  last,  through 
the  gyrations  of  his  self-deception,  into  perdition. 

The  young  merchant,  that  has  not  a  thoroughly  Chris 
tian  purpose  to  govern  him,  tells  you  he  would  become 
a  prosperous  capitalist  that  he  may  dispense  public  bene 
fits  ;  but  he  ends  with  being  a  wealthy  miser.  The  law- 
student  will  aim  at  the  bench,  he  says,  for  the  sake  of 
vindicating  justice  and  elevating  jurisprudence,  or  at 
the  senate  for  the  purifying  of  legislation  ;  and  he  be 
comes  a  pettifogger  in  law,  or  a  turncoat  in  politics.  The 
10 


110  SATAN    TRANSFORMED. 

young  physician's  triple  sign  points  to  a  votary  who  pon 
ders  the  enlargement  of  medical  science  and  the  deliver 
ance  of  mortality  from  its  disorders  ;  but  as  he  grows  older, 
he  grows  rich  on  a  bigoted  opposition  to  all  therapeuti 
cal  reforms,  and  traffics  in  the  fears  and  superstition  and 
ignorance  of  the  miserable.  The  crafty  excuse  under 
which  preachers  are  tempted  to  keep  back  salutary  truth. 
to  prophesy  smooth  things,  to  lay  private  plots  for  repu 
tation,  and  to  condescend  to  cowardly  and  humiliating 
arts,  is  that  they  may  increase  their  influence,  —  forget 
ting  to  ask  how  much  influence  so  got  is  worth,  —  for 
getting  that  God  will  not  let  the  merit  of  any  good  end 
be  carried  over  to  lend  a  sanction  to  the  unrighteous 
means. 

Satan  does  not  march  his  victim  up  to  face  perdition 
point-blank.  He  leads  him  to  it  by  easy  stages,  and 
through  a  labyrinth  that  shows  no  danger.  Round  and 
round  go  those  circling  currents  of  the  Northern  Sea 
that  swallow  the  ship  ;  and  by  the  same  winding  coil 
goes  the  spiritual  decline  that  ends  in  spiritual  death.  It 
is  gayety,  not  the  grave,  that  youth  is  seeking,  when  it 
steps  inside  the  circle  of  forbidden  pleasure.  It  is  for 
social  cheer,  for  good-companionship,  because  he  would 
not  be  morose,  because  he  would  scatter  his  despond 
ency,  that  the  drunkard  drinks  damnation,  not  for  dam 
nation's  sake.  It  is  to  pay  his  debt,  the  gambler  urges, 
that  he  plays,  —  to  pay  one  debt  that  he  forfeits  all  his 
credit.  The  first  falsehood  of  a  practised  liar  may  have 
been  told  to  save  a  friend's  reputation,  —  a  generous 
motive  he  thinks  :  Satan  transformed  into  an  angel  of 
light !  A  worldly  life  is  begun  for  the  more  decent  uses 
that  wealth  may  be  put  to  ;  but  it  is  followed  afterwards 
in  servitude  to  that  unscrupulous  task-master,  avarice. 


SATAN    TRANSFORMED.  Ill 

How  much  idleness  that  is  full  of  guilt,  under  the  plausi 
ble  apology  of  husbanding  our  strength  !  The  sluggard 
will  save  himself  for  future  labor,  he  says ;  and  in  the 
very  economy  of  his  purpose  acquires  a  lazy  habit  that 
drains  all  the  strength  out  of  his  sinews.  When  envy 
would  detract  from  a  rival,  it  puts  itself  into  the  chair 
of  impartial  criticism.  When  prejudice  would  stab  a 
blameless  character,  it  pretends  to  be  indignant  at  hy 
pocrisy.  Many  a  man  and  many  a  woman  have  been 
thought  righteously  opposed  to  sin,  when  they  were  only 
maliciously  opposed  to  some  particular  sinner.  Spite 
against  an  erring  brother  or  sister  was  the  feeling.  Zeal 
against  vice  wasjhe  cloak  put  over  it.  Jealousy  or  re 
venge  is  the  motive ;  but  it  borrows  a  mask  of  moral 
ity.  Out  of  the  general  maxim  that  books  make  us 
wise,  an  unwholesome  and  prurient  imagination  fabri 
cates  a  flimsy  apology  for  reading  flimsier  profligacy. 
A  patriotic  pretence  of  loyalty  to  good  government 
covers  over  the  vulgar  lampoon,  the  chicanery  of  the  cau 
cus,  the  systematic  detraction  of  the  party  newspaper. 
Satan  is  transformed  into  an  angel  of  light.  Truth  is 
compromised,  from  the  slavish  fear  of  losing  office  or 
custom  or  popularity,  —  and  it  is  called  prudence.  The 
luxurious  aristocrat  embroiders  his  estates  with  unpaid 
toil,  wrung  from  the  muscles  of  his  starving  tenants  or 
slaves,  and  pleads  allegiance  to  the  ancient  usage  of  his 
ancestors.  The  thief  explains  his  stealing  by  the  hunger 
of  his  children.  Murder  itself  disclaims  all  thirst  for 
blood :  it  was  revenge  for  insult ;  it  was  desperation ; 
it  was  a  paroxysm  of  wounded  pride,  or  of  ungoverned 
anger.  If  a  man  fears  that  reform  will  disturb  his  com 
fort,  or.  interrupt  his  immoral  traffic,  he  would  have  you 
believe  he  is  a  stanch  conservatist  on  principle.  But  if 


112  SATAN    TRANSFORMED. 

he  can  realize  private  profits  out  of  a  new  movement,  he 
first  makes  a  merit  of  radicalism.  "  When  I  the  most 
strictly  and  religiously  confess  myself,"  said  Montaigne, 
"  I  find  that  the  best  virtue  I  have  has  in  it  some  tinc 
ture  of  vice ;  and  I  am  afraid  that  Plato,  in  his  purest 
virtue,  if  he  had  listened  and  laid  his  ear  close  to  himself, 
would  have  heard  some  jarring  sound  of  human  mix 
ture."  • 

Be  sure  that  the  attack  of  temptation  is  most  apt  to 
be  oblique,  not  open  and  direct.  It  destroys  our  moral 
foothold  by  a  sidelong  onset  on  our  principles.  When 
the  Russian  troops  were  retreating  across  a  frozen  lake 
before  Napoleon's  army,  Bonaparte  stationed  his  artillery 
on  a  neighboring  elevation,  and  ordered  them  to  fire  on 
the  ice  and  break  it  up,  and  thus  engulf  the  enemy's 
regiments.  The  guns  were  levelled  and  discharged,  but 
the  balls  glanced  and  rolled  on  the  ice  without  breaking 
it.  Suddenly  one  of  his  colonels  thought  to  elevate  his 
howitzers  and  fire  into  the  air.  The  momentum  of  the 
descending  projectiles,  a  falling  shower  of  iron  and  lead, 
shattered  the  ice,  and  sent  down  the  host  into  the  waters 
of  the  lake.  It  is  not  the  only  instance  in  which  the  arts 
of  war  have  followed  precisely  the  arts  of  the  Devil.  It 
is  by  the  oblique  shot  of  our  tempters  that 

"  The  meanest  foe  of  all  the  train 
Has  thousands  and  ten  thousands  slain." 

Satan  never  plays  a  bold  game.  He  wins  by  not 
showing  his  worst  at  first,  by  concealing  his  tricks, 
transformed  into  an  angel  of  light.  It  takes  a  great 
deal  of  effort  to  put  us  thoroughly  on  our  guard  against 
his  wiles ;  but  when  it  is  done,  it  is  worth  the  pains. 

Tempting  men  imitate  their  great  leader  and  proto- 


SATAN    TRANSFORMED.  113 

type.  They  never  go  directly  and  openly  to  their  object. 
If  they  would  bend  you  from  your  integrity,  they  will 
flatter  your  self-respect  by  holding  out  to  you  a  moral 
inducement.  If  they  would  corrupt  your  purity,  they 
insinuate  the  poison  through  some  appeal  to  your  better  ' 
affections.  If  they  would  weaken  the  holy  restraints 
that  gird  in,  with  their  blessed  zone,  the  innocence  of 
childhood,  they  will  urge  some  sly  argument  to  an  hon 
orable  pride,  or  else  to  a  friendly  sympathy,  or  else  to  a 
praiseworthy  love  of  independence  ;  and  the  first  battery 
that  has  been  plied  against  many  a  boy's  virtue  has  been 
the  cunning  caution  that  bade  him  not  be  afraid  of  his 
elders.  They  may  say,  as  Milton  makes  the  Archfiend 
say,  sitting  like  a  cormorant  on  a  tree  that  overlooked 
the  sinless  Eden  and  the  yet  innocent  inmates,  deceiv 
ing  even  his  own  black  heart  : 

"  Should  I  at  your  harmless  innocence 
Melt,  as  I  do,  yet  public  reason  just, 
Honor  and  empire  with  revenge  enlarged 
By  conquering  this  new  world  compels  me  now 
To  do  what  else,  though  damned,  I  should  abhor." 

Theologians  can  cover  their  sectarian  misrepresen 
tations  with  the  plea  of  "  zeal  for  the  cause,"  and  con 
troversialists  baptize  their  bigotry  with  language  of  Holy- 
Writ  wrested  from  its  meaning. 


"  The  Devil  can  cite  Scripture  for  his  purpose  ...... 

0  what  a  goodly  outside  falsehood  hath  !  " 

Says  the  Apostle  Paul  :  "  If  Satan  himself  is  trans 
formed  into  an  angel  of  light,  it  is  no  great  thing  if  his 
ministers  also  be  transformed  as  the  ministers  of  right 
eousness,  —  whose  end  shall  be  according  to  their  works." 

Unrighteous  souls  are  like  performers  at  a  masquer 
ade  ;  only  all  the  costumes  are  chosen  out  of  the  ward- 


114  SATAN    TRANSFORMED. 

robe  of  religion,  while  all  the  living  figures  under  them 
are  disciples  of  Belial.  Every  iniquity  that  is  done  un 
der  the  sun  would  be  glad  to  furnish  itself  out  of  the 
haberdashery  of  respectable  appearances.  No  apostle  of 
holiness  ever  lived,  perhaps,  but  has  had  his  likeness 
taken,  his  deportment  mimicked,  and  his  features  copied 
by  hypocrisy,  to  palm  off  depravity  with.  Every  noble 
look  and  gesture  of  heroic  virtue  has  been  mocked  by 
villany  and  shame. 

"  There  is  no  vice  so  simple  but  assumes 
Some  mark  of  virtue  on  its  outward  parts." 

For  Satan  transforms  himself  into  an  angel  of  light. 

And  now,  if  it  shall  be  allowed  to  stand  for  our  excus 
ing,  that  temptation  came  to  us  circuitously,  veiled  with 
the  mask  of  virtue,  then  history  has  recorded  few  crimes 
that  can  be  condemned.  The  business  of  our  moral  vigi 
lance,  and  the  test  of  our  moral  strength,  is  to  penetrate 
the  delusion,  to  tear  off  the  mask,  to  recognize  Satan 
even  through  his  transformations.  We  should  know  our 
tempters  as  the  sure  instincts  of  innocent  hearts  know 
hypocrites,  "  through  the  disguise  they  wear."  Perhaps 
no  tyrant,  traitor,  debauchee,  or  robber  ever  lived,  who 
chose  depravity  for  its  own  sake,  or  loved  sin  for  its  ugli 
ness.  If  we  are  to  be  exculpated  because  temptation  is 
cunning,  oblique,  crafty,  then  Herod  was  innocent,  and 
Judas  has  been  harshly  judged ;  Nero  is  an  injured  man ; 
Benedict  Arnold  has  been  misrepresented ;  and  Jeffries 
and  Rochester  were  rather  sinned  against  than  sinning. 
All  our  sins  creep  on  us  under  concealment,  creep  on  us 
circuitously.  Our  first  lesson  of  resistance  is  to  learn 
that  Satan  is  a  deceiver,  transforms  himself,  looks  an 
angel. 

Ever  since  the  first  mother  gave  her  ear  to  the  serpent. 


SATAN    TRANSFORMED. 


115 


his  approach  to  his  victim  has  been  "  with  tract  oblique  "  ; 
« in  circling  spires,  fold  above  fold,  sidelong  he  works  his 
way." 

It  is  so  on  the  rough  pavements  of  our  modern  cities, 
in  these  dusty  streets,  in  the  homely  warehouse  and  the 
familiar  dwelling,  as  much  as  among  the  hyacinths  and 
asphodels  of  Paradise. 

This  assembly !  where  are  your  temptations  ?  You 
sit  in  God's  house,  with  no  signs  of  peril ;  you  will  go 
to  your  homes,  as  you  came  up  from  them,  with  no 
alarms  of  danger  ringing  in  your  affrighted  ears.  Where 
are  your  temptations  ?  Not  marching  down  your  streets, 
a  bannered  host,  with  trumpets  to  proclaim  their  siege, 
and  with  warlike  notes  of  preparation.  Virtue's  victo 
ries  would  then  be  comparatively  easy.  But  your  temp 
tations  hover  about  you  in  wary  ambush.  They  are  not 
in  great  emergencies,  heralded  by  horrid  threatenings,  but 
in  the  little  things  of  your  daily  life,  and  hidden  under 
unsuspected  appearances.  They  lurk  in  the  luxuries  on 
which  you  repose ;  in  the  pillows  of  comfort  on  which  you 
lay  your  thoughtless  heads ;  in  the  emulation  where  you 
mistake  the  pride  of  excelling  for  the  love  of  wisdom, 
and  superiority  for  scholarship;  in  the  common  labor 
where  the  world  gambles  for  your  soul ;  in  the  merchan 
dise  where  you  are  offered  gain  for  falsehood  ;  in  the 
social  fellowship  where  criminality  corrupts  under  the 
name  of  cordiality;  in  the  flatteries  of  your  beauty,  or 
your  talents,  or  your  disposition,  which  borrow  the  silver 
tones  of  friendship,  and  sound  so  like  them  that  you 
listen  ;  in  the  familiar  pleasures  that  make  the  feet  of  the 
hours  so  swift,  and  the  earth  so  satisfying,  that  you  feel 
no  need  of  heaven.  Here  are  your  tempters.  They  are 
disguised;  they  take  circuitous  paths;  they  carry  gifts 


116  SATAN    TRANSFORMED. 

in  their  hands,  and  place  crowns  on  your  heads ;  they 
are  clothed  like  angels  of  light. 

Examine  yourselves.  You  are  put  upon  your  self- 
scrutiny.  To  know  your  enemy  is  half  the  battle. 

Examine  yourselves.  "  But  ourselves  only  ?  "  do  you 
say  ?  "  Shall  we  not  go  and  watch  Satan's  kingdom, 
and  the  gates  whence  his  legions  issue,  as  well  ? "  No ; 
yourselves,  watch  yourselves  only.  For  the  kingdom  of 
hell,  as  well  as  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  is  within  us. 
All  the  mischief  is  there,  its  origin  there,  its  power  there, 
its  fatal  result  there.  There  Satan's  seat  is.  'No  harm 
can  come  nigh  you,  but  through  the  gate  of  your  own 
yielding  heart,  set  open  by  your  own  perverted  will. 


SERMON     IX. 

FOUR  APOSTLES. 

THERE   ARE   DIVERSITIES    OF    GIFTS,   BUT    THE    SAME    SPIRIT.      AND 
THERE  ARE    DIFFERENCES    OF   ADMINISTRATIONS,  BUT  THE  SAME 

LORD.  —  1  Cor.  xfr.  4,  5. 

IT  seems  to  be  a  method  of  the  Divine  Economy  to 
bring  out  the  complete  circle  of  Truth  by  a  variety  of 
characters.  Christianity  is  not  so  disobliging  a  system, 
that  it  requires  of  all  its  disciples  that  they  have  one 
temperament;  not  so  angular,  that  it  must  mould  every 
constitution  into  one  fixed  shape,  and  condemn  all  our 
differences  from  one  another  as  departures  from  itself. 
On  the  contrary,  it  rejoices  in  diversity,  grafts  its  heav 
enly  spirit  on  constitutions  the  most  contrasted,  and  uses 
the  peculiarities  that  distinguish  one  good  man  from  an 
other  as  only  a  more  copious  language  for  illustrating  its 
illimitable  doctrine. 

Just  as  God  shows  the  world  the  fulness  of  his  great 
historical  ideas,  and  pushes  forward  the  plans  of  his  provi 
dence,  by  bringing  upon  the  grand  theatre  a  multiplicity 
of  nations,  each  marked  by  its  own  national  characteris 
tics  ;  just  as  he  supplies  a  defect  in  one  by  an  abundance 
in  another,  corrects  the  excesses  of  a  past  age  by  the  an- 


118  FOUR   APOSTLES. 

tagonistic  tendencies  of  the  next,  and  sets  off  the  traits  of 
this  country  to  balance  the  opposite  traits  of  that ;  just 
as  he  appoints  Judaea  to  represent  reverence,  Athens  in 
telligence,  and  Rome  law,  counteracts  tropical  luxury 
by  Northern  simplicity,  quickens  Italian  indolence  by 
Scandinavian  enterprise,  outweighs  the  dreamy  Oriental 
mysticism  by  the  practical  genius  of  the  West,  opens 
industrious  America  to  atone  for  military  Europe,  and 
checks  Ultramontane  sentiment  by  Saxon  logic,  thus 
combining  an  educational  apparatus  of  many  climates 
and  a  normal  school  of  many  kingdoms  to  teach  the  les 
son  of  universal  wisdom  ;  —  so  does  he  convey  that  higher 
and  diviner  gift,  the  religion  of  his  Son,  which  is  finally 
to  conquer,  penetrate,  and  outlive  them  all,  through  many 
forms  of  living  example,  and  many  kinds  of  statement 
corresponding. 

After  Christ,  the  Gospel  was  not  planted  on  earth  by 
one  man,  but  by  several  men.  And  these  several  men 
were  not  alike  altogether.  There  were  striking  contrasts 
between  them,  and  this  did  not  happen  by  accident.  The 
more  minds,  and  the  more  unlike  each  other,  chosen  as 
channels  for  putting  the  new  life  into  human  society,  the 
more  certain  was  that  life  to  gain  access  to  all  classes, 
lay  hold  of  different  sets  of  thoughts  and  feelings,  and 
act  broadly  on  the  consciousness  and  convictions  of  the 
whole.  It  exemplifies  the  inexhaustible  richness  and 
depth,  as  well  as  the  wonderful  flexibility  of  Christian 
truth,  I  think,  that  its  Apostles  bore  so  slight  resemblance 
to  each  other.  Perhaps  we  shall  find  reason  to  regard  it 
as  a  cause  for  personal  gratitude. 

Out  of  the  thirteen  men  that  acted  as  Christian  Apos 
tles,  there  were  four,  the  most  active,  the  most  conspicu 
ous,  and  the  most  efficient  in  founding  the  Church.  I 


FOUR   APOSTLES.  119 

select  these  four — Peter,  Paul,  James,  and  John  —  as  rep 
resenting  respectively  four  prominent  qualities  in  a  well- 
proportioned  disciple,  four  branches  of  individual  char 
acter,  as  well  as  four  classes  of  persons.  The  points  that 
I  would  have  fasten  your  attention  especially  are  these : 
1.  That,  while  these  four  teachers  were  stamped  emphati 
cally  with  Christ's  doctrine,  so  that  the  faith  of  a  true 
believer  was  their  first  distinction,  rising  above  and  sub 
ordinating  all  their  separate  peculiarities,  yet  that  the 
Christian  life  took  in  each  of  them  a  distinctive  form  and 
color,  modified  by  their  several  organizations,  so  that, 
though  holiness  was  the  supreme  principle  and  end  with 
every  one,  it  wore  a  peculiar  aspect  in  each ;  2.  That  the 
combination  of  these  four  presented  Christianity  in  its 
wholeness,  blending  their  personal  diversities  in  a  com 
prehensive  unity  ;  and  3.  That,  by  a  personal  imitation  of 
what  was  paramount  in  each,  and  adjusting  together  the 
elements  of  character  they  represent,  we  may  approach 
to  something  like  a  symmetrical  life. 

I.  First  appears  Peter,  ardent,  impetuous,  vehement 
Peter.  Neither  the  most  effectual  nor  the  most  attractive 
type  of  discipleship  will  be  manifest,  without  a  good  al 
lowance  of  his  fervor.  A  character  where  that  quality 
predominates  is  liable  to  glaring  faults ;  because  the  en 
ergy  of  the  impulsive  nature  may  act  with  equal  force  in 
any  direction,  and  unless  principle  and  judgment  sus 
tain  the  proportion,  there  will-  be  plenty  of  follies  to  be 
ashamed  of,  and  hasty  sins  to  be  atoned  for  by  remorse. 
Considering,  too,  that  Simon  Peter  was  summoned  to 
follow  his  Master  when  he  was  already  somewhat  ad 
vanced  in  years,  it  is  not  singular  —  indeed,  unless  we 
suppose  a  miracle  to  have  been  wrought  to  transform 
him,  it  would  have  been  quite  singular  otherwise  —  that 


120  FOUR   APOSTLES. 

some  of  the  faults  incident  to  that  sort  of  temperament, 
faults  that  His  old  religion  had  not  disciplined  into  re 
straint,  should  be  often  reappearing  to  dishonor  his  pro 
fession.  Accordingly  we  find,  in  tracing  his  career,  that 
his  zeal  was  mixed  with  many  inconsistencies.  Incon 
stancy  compromised  his  ardor;  temper  lurked  in  close 
alliance  with  his  impetuosity ;  and  violence  of  speech 
was  a  mortifying  appendage  to  his  vehemence.  But 
Christ  saw  that  he  had  in  him  the  noble  material  of  a  vi 
tal  and  victorious  apostleship,  and  it  is  most  interesting 
for  us  to  see  how  the  benignant  spirit  of  the  new  faith 
worked  upon  him,  till  it  finally  purged  out  the  old  bitter 
leaven,  refashioned  him  into  a  self-commanding  as  well 
as  an  eager  champion,  and  at  last  made  him  first  and 
foremost  of  the  twelve  companions  of  his  Lord.  It  was 
a  long  battle,*  however,  as  it  must  be  with  many  a  Peter- 
like  disposition  among  us,  between  spontaneous  activity 
and  calm  control.  Standing  by  the  sea-side,  at  his  busi 
ness  as  a  fisherman,  he  was  one  of  the  first  that  Jesus 
called  to  come  with  him ;  and  there  at  the  very  outset, 
ready  as  ever  after,  he  did  not  hesitate  an  instant  to  leave 
his  nets  bleaching  on  the  sand,  abandoning  his  property 
and  his  home,  for  the  uncertain  fortunes  of  a  leader  that 
had  not  where  to  lay  his  head.  It  was  he  that  cried  out 
in  an  abundance  of  self-confidence  almost  childish,  when 
he  saw  Jesus  walking  on  the  waves,  "  Let  me  come  to 
thee  on  the  water,"  but  the  next  moment,  by  a  revulsion 
as  rapid,  screamed,  "  Lord,  save  me,  for  I  sink."  It  was 
he  that,  when  Christ  asked  sorrowfully,  seeing  some  dis 
affected  adherents  forsaking  him,  "  Will  ye  also  go 
away?"  broke  out  into  that  passionate  pledge  of  devo 
tion,  "  Lord,  to  whom  shall  we  go  ?  we  believe  and  are 
sure  that  thou  art  the  Son  of  God."  It  was  he  that,  an- 


FOUR    APOSTLES.  121 

other  time,  answered  so  promptly  to  the  question,  "  Whom 
say  ye  that  I  am  ?  "  —  "  Thou  art  the  Christ,  Son  of  the 
living  God."  It  was  he  that  interrupted  that  serene  and 
majestic  prophecy,  "  The  Son  of  Man  must  go  up  to  Jeru 
salem,  suffer,  and  be  killed,"  with  his  impatient  protest, 
"  Far  be  it  from  thee,  Lord,"  and  had  to  be  rebuked  for 
his  worldly  ambition.  It  was  Peter  —  it  could  not  have 
been  any  other,  and  we  should  have  known  it  to  be  he  if 
no  name  were  given  —  that  rejected  the  menial  service 
whereby  the  condescending  Redeemer  symbolized  the 
humility  of  his  religion,  and  exclaimed,  "  Thou  shalt 
never  wash'  my  feet ?' ;  but  the  next  moment,  at  the 
touching  reproof,  "  If  I  wash  thee  not,  thou  hast  no  part 
with  me,"  sprang  to  the  opposite  extreme,  and  was  ready 
for  any  amount  of  superfluous  submission,  begging, 
"  Lord,  not  my  feet  only,  but  my  hands  and  my  head." 
With  fortitude  enough  to  draw  his  sword  and  smite  the 
high-priest's  servant  at  the  arrest,  he  yet  fell  asleep  from 
fatigue  amidst  the  solemnities  of  the  garden,  and  could 
not  watch  one  hour  when  the  traitor  was  leading  on  the 
officers.  Above  all,  you  will  remember  that  most  fla 
grant  proof  of  his  unregulated  impulses,  when,  after  all 
the  privileges  of  his  earlier  and  constant  intimacy  with 
the  beloved  Messiah,  —  after  having  been  admitted  to  the 
confidence  of  sharing  his  dwelling  at  Capernaum,  —  hav 
ing  been  one  of  the  three  favored  friends  permitted  to  be 
present  at  the  raising  of  Jairus's  daughter,  when  all  others 
were  shut  out,  and  to  witness  the  glory  of  the  Mount  of 
Transfiguration,  and  to  share  in  the  awful  hour  at  Geth- 
semane,  —  having  been  put  forward  to  speak  on  every  oc 
casion  for  the  Twelve  as  their  acknowledged  head,  and 
having  resolutely  promised,  "  Though  all  men  should  be 
offended  because  of  thee,  yet  will  I  never  be  offended,"  — 
11 


122  FOUR   APOSTLES. 

he  three  times  declared,  when  stung  by  insult  and  ridicule, 
"  I  know, not  the  man."  And  yet,  so  far  as  subsequent 
fidelity,  both  in  intensity  and  perseverance,  could  atone, 
he  washed  out  the  stain  of  these  sad  disgraces,  by  deeds 
as  well  as  tears.  When  that  burning,  fiery  spirit  once 
took  the  steady  poise  of  principle,  it  wrought  out  splen 
did  triumphs  of  virtue ;  it  pierced  the  Gentile  idolatries 
with  an  impassioned  eloquence  that  turned  them  from 
Jupiter  and  Diana  to  the  living  God,  from  pride  and  sen 
suality  to  repentance  and  immortality.  It  quickened 
this  brave  Apostle,  till  he  shook  the  Eastern  world ;  made 
him  the  first  to  spring  down  into  the  empty  tomb  out  of 
which  his  Lord  had  risen,  and  first  to  proclaim  the  resur 
rection  among  the  living ;  plunged  him  into  the  sea  to 
greet  Jesus  at  his  reappearance  in  the  body ;  brought  three 
tnousand  converts  into  the  Church  by  a  single  speech  at 
Pentecost ;  enabled  him  to  sleep  calmly  as  an  infant  be 
tween  the  two  soldiers  and  under  the  double  chain  in  the 
prison ;  braced  him  to  that  magnificent  assertion  of  the 
everlasting  truth  of  a  Law  higher  than  any  of  man's 
making,  when,  standing  arraigned  for  speaking  the  truth, 
before  high-priest  and  rulers,  he  said  firmly,  "  Whether 
it  be  right  to  hearken  unto  yoai  more  than  unto  God, 
judge  ye";  and,  at  last,  inspired  him  with  that  character 
istic  courage  that  prompted  him,  as  the  traditions  tell,  to 
request  at  his  execution  that  he  might  be  crucified  with 
the  head  downwards,  because  he  deserved  to  die  in  greater 
agony  than  the  Saviour  that  he  had  once  denied.  His 
Epistles  overflow  with  the  same  zealous  devotion.  Did 
not  his  fervor  finally  justify,  then,  the  title  given  him  by 
one  who  knew  what  was  in  him,  —  Peter,  —  Cephas,  — 
a  rock,  — the  rock  on  which  he  should  build  his  Church  ? 
Peter  was  an  enthusiast.  He  was  much  else  besides, 


FOUR  APOSTLES. 


123 


but  pre-eminently  he  was  that.  In  the  culture  of  our 
spiritual  life,  and  the  exercise  of  it,  both,  we  need  this 
Pe trine  element.  We  want  the  glow,  the  warmth,  the 
flame,  of  this  energetic,  fervent,  resistless  zeal.  No  in 
dividual  heart,  nor  any  system  of  theology,  will  have 
vital  power  without  it.  Selfish  frigidity  and  worldly  in 
difference  are  its  enemies.  If  we  grow  cold,  we  shall 
freeze ;  if  we  grow  torpid,  we  shall  go  to  sleep.  Doubt 
less,  we  are  liable  to  the  same  errors  in  it  that  the  Apos 
tle  was.  Such  errors  are  in  private  places  as  in  public. 
If  we  had  known  Peter  in  his  house,  we  should  probably 
have  overheard  him  retorting  angrily  to  his  housemate,  or 
giving  some  unreasonable  indulgence  to  Petronica,  his 
daughter.  The  place  is  nothing,  and  does  not  much  vary 
the  temptation.  To  guide  the  impulse,  wherever  you 
are,  by  carefulness ;  to  steady  the  wayward  transport  of 
feeling,  at  home  or  abroad,  by  sober  meditation ;  to  hal 
low  the  hot  enthusiasm  by  the  sanctities  of  prayer;  —  this 
is  the  task  of  all  of  you  that  have  Peter's  ardent  temper 
ament,  and  would  share  his  moral  victory. 

II.  And  to  that  very  end,  we  must  call  in  a  new  ele 
ment,  the  element  that  had  its  peculiar  impersonation  in 
Peter's  fellow- Apostle,  Paul.  A  Greek  by  birth  and  a 
Jew  by  ancestral  blood,  a  Pharisee,  by  education,  of  the 
strictest  sect,  and  a  Christian  by  one  of  the  most  wonder 
ful  of  conversions,  he  was  a  man  to  understand  both  the 
Judaism  he  was  to  pull  down  and  the  Gospel  he  was  to 
build  up  and  spread  abroad.  His  fierce  natural  temper 
made  him  a  fearfully  alert  persecutor,  under  the  Sanhe 
drim,  and  his  elegant  literary  culture  fitted  him  to  dis 
pute  powerfully  with  Greek  sophists  at  Mars'  Hill. 
Whether  as  Jew  or  Christian,  he  believed  with  all  his 
soul.  The  same  earnestness  of  conviction,  strength  of 


124  FOUR   APOSTLES. 

will,  and  vitality  of  allegiance,  went  into  his  Judaism 
and  his  Christianity ;  for  after  the  straitest  sect  he  lived 
a  Pharisee,  and  yet  was  not  disobedient  to  the  heavenly 
vision  of  the  light  above  the  brightness  of  the  sun.  He 
was  a  man  to  look  on  with  cool  consent  at  Stephen's 
martyrdom,  before  he  heard  the  voice  from  heaven ;  and 
after  the  Word,  like  a  two-edged  sword,  had  pierced  the 
joints  and  marrow  of  his  spirit,  to  accuse  himself  as  the 
chief  of  sinners,  and  cry,  "  O  wretched  man  that  I  am ! 
what  I  would  not,  that  I  do ;  who  shall  deliver  me  from 
the  body  of  this  death  ?  "  His  strong  passions  made  all 
his  religious  experience  vivid  as  the  lightning,  and  his 
comprehensive  intellect  made  his  eloquence  reverberate 
like  the  thunder.  His  moods  were  various,  but  all  in 
tense.  He  could  with  equal  skill  sport  satire  with  the 
Corinthians,  or  foil  such  dignitaries  as  Agrippa  and  Fe 
lix  with  his  polished  rhetoric,  or  smite  Elymas  the  sor 
cerer  and  the  backsliders  at  Galatia  with  the  battle-axe 
of  his  indignation.  Too  rapid  in  his  style  to  balance  an 
antithesis,  or  limit  a  parenthesis,  or  modulate  his  senten 
ces,  he  forgets  all  the  rules  of  composition  in  the  thing 
to  be  said.  He  was  resolute  enough  to  withstand  Bar 
nabas,  his  associate,  to  the  face,  in  a  question  of  princi 
ple,  yet  tender  enough  to  restore  Eutychus  and  comfort 
afflicted  women ;  a  man  to  confound  equally  the  Jews 
who  required  a  sign,  and  the  idolaters  that  sought  after 
worldly  wisdom ;  a  man  to  spend  three  years  in  Arabia 
to  prove  whether  the  inspiration  was  genuine,  and  its 
pulse  healthy ;  a  man  to  sing  praises  at  midnight  in  a 
jail,  and,  when  an  earthquake  opened  the  walls,  calmly 
to  tell  the  jailer  to  do  himself  no  harm,  for  he  had  not 
availed  himself  of  his  liberty ;  and  then  to  preach  Christ 
there  to  the  frightened  keepers,  and  the  next  day,  when 


FOUR   APOSTLES.  125 

the  magistrates  were  troubled  at  their  illegal  arrest,  to 
stand  upon  his  dignity,  and  refuse  to  go  out  till  he  had 
humiliated  them  by  compelling  them  to  come  and  be 
seech  him  to  go ;  a  man  that  could  tell,  and  tell  without 
complaining,  but  with  a  light  heart  and  in  a  cheerful 
tone,  of  stripes  and  stonings,  shipwrecks  and  perils  by 
the  wilderness,  of  robbers  and  false  brethren,  of  watchings 
and  nakedness,  of  escaping  by  a  basket  from  a  window, 
of  hunger  and  thirst  and  weariness  daily,  glorying  in  his 
tribulations,  —  could  tell  also  of  visions  and  revelations  in 
the  third  heavens,  of  joy  unspeakable,  and  the  peace  that 
passeth  understanding. 

The  secret  of  all  this  steadfastness  of  spirit  was  faith 
in  God,  —  Paul's  leading  doctrine.  He  had  known  the 
tossings  and  wrestlings  of  a  sinful  nature,  and  pictures 
them  in  his  terrible  description  of  the  warfare  between 
the  lusts  and  the  spirit.  "  Chief  of  sinners"  was  the 
dark  background  that  contrasted  the  radiant  mercy  of 
the  cross.  He  had  tried  legal  righteousness,  or  keeping 
the  letter  of  the  law,  and  found  no  man  living  could  keep 
it  inviolate ;  there  was  no  satisfaction  there.  Like  all 
men  since  of  very  deep  and  intense  moral  experience, — 
and  such  always  find  themselves  interpreted  and  satisfied 
only  by  Paul,  —  he  came  out  at  last  upon  the  ground  of 
acceptance  on  account  of  faith  in  Christ,  and  entire  giv 
ing  up  of  the  soul  to  the  free  mercy  of  God;  —  the  only 
permanent  ground  for  Christian  theology  to  rest  upon. 

Here,  then,  for  the  second  element  of  Christian  char 
acter,  with  Paul  as  its  exemplar,  is  faith,  a  belief, 
resident,  in  his  case,  in  a  mind  of  such  logical  acute- 
ness  and  dialectical  address,  as  could  shape  it  into  a  sys 
tem  for  the  understanding,  and  reason  it  into  the  convic 
tions  of  the  churches  by  his  argumentation.  Something 


126 


FOUR    APOSTLES. 


to  believe,  —  something  definite,  —  this  is  the  Pauline 
contribution  to  Christian  completeness.  Its  grandest  ef 
fect  is  seen  in  himself;  but  in  humbler  degrees  it  may 
work  res  alts  of  inconceivable  greatness  and  blessedness 
in  us.  It  gives  steadiness  to  fervor  and  permanence  to  a 
Peter's  impulsiveness.  It  was  by  its  uplifting  power 
that  Paul  could  break  forth  into  those  triumphant  strains, 
ringing  like  sublime  anthems  down  through  all  history 
to  this  hour.  Listen  to  two  or  three  whose  lyric  modu 
lations  show  a  poet's  nature  throbbing  under  the  logi 
cian's  armor :  "  And  now  I  go  bound  in  the  spirit  unto 
Jerusalem,  not  knowing  the  things  that  shall  befall  me 
there,  save  that  the  Holy  Ghost  witnesseth  in  every  city, 
saying  that  bonds  and  afflictions  abide  me.  But  none 
of  these  things  move  me ;  neither  count  I  my  life  dear 
unto  myself,  so  that  I  might  finish  my  course  with  joy." 
"  For  I  am  now  ready  to  be  offered,  and  the  time  of  my  de 
parture  is  at  hand.  I  have  fought  a  good  fight,  finished 
my  course,  kept  the  faith:  henceforth  there  is  laid  up 
for  me  a  crown  of  righteousness,  which  the  Lord  shall 
give  me  at  that  day."  "  For  I  am  persuaded  that  neither 
death  nor  life,  nor  angels,  nor  principalities,  nor  powers, 
nor  things  present,  nor  things  to  come,  nor  height,  nor 
depth,  nor  any  other  creature,  shall  be  able  to  separate 
us  from  the  love  of  God."  "  This  corruptible  must  put 
on  incorruption ;  this  mortal  must  put  on  immortality. 
Thanks  be  to  God,  who  giveth  us  the  victory  through  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ." 

III.  This  doctrine  of  faith,  however,  so  dear  to  Paul, 
is  capable  of  being  urged  to  an  extreme ;  or  rather, 
though  faith  itself  cannot  possibly  be  too  abundant,  we 
may  hold  a  particular  notion  of  it  in  such  disproportion 
as  to  exclude  another  element,  quite  as  necessary.  We 


FOUR    APOSTLES.  127 

begin  to  feel  that  we  must  call  in  an  apostle  of  works, 
practical  righteousness,  an  external  life  of  integrity  and 
charity,  to  keep  the  balance  even ;  but  before  we  call,  he 
has  already  come.  James,  a  near  kinsman  of  Jesus,  a 
man  upright  from  his  youth,  of  irreproachable  manners 
and  respected  character,  even  before  the  new  splendor  of 
the  Gospel  standard  broke  upon  him,  was  that  Apostle. 
James  was  the  representative  of  the  right  life,  as  Paul 
was  of  the  right  mind ;  and  so  consistently  did  he  exem 
plify  in  his  person  the  doctrine  he  preached  in  his  minis 
try  and  wrote  in  his  Epistle,  that  he  received  from  his 
acquaintances  the  noble  title  James  the  Just.  Not  very 
much  is  said  of  him  in  the  narratives,  but,  as  often  hap 
pens  with  silent  men,  a  great  deal  was  done  by  him. 
He  clung  to  a  quiet,  straight  path  in  his  ministry  at 
Jerusalem.  Believing  that  usefulness  is  the  best  test 
of  piety,  he  was  content  to  be  unostentatiously  useful. 
Some  honors,  to  be  sure,  could  not  be  kept  away  from 
so  trustworthy  a  mind,  however  modest.  He  was  chosen 
moderator  of  the  first  Christian  Council,  convened  at 
Jerusalem  to  consider  the  question  whether  Gentile 
converts  should  be  admitted  to  equal  privileges  in  the 
Church  with  converts  of  Jewish  education,  and  without 
circumcision.  He  summed  up  the  merits  of  the  case  in 
a  short  speech,  which,  curiously  enough,  contains  in  its 
brief  compass  a  clear  assertion  of  his  cherished  idea  that 
a  right  line  of  life  is  of  more  consequence  than  any  form. 
There  is  a  tradition,  that  he  was  so  spotless  in  conduct 
that  he  was  suffered  to  enter  the  Holy  of  holies  in  the 
temple,  where  none  but  the  high-priest  entered.  And 
as  his  death  at  the  hands  of  his  persecutors  took  place 
just  before  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem,  the  Jews  used 
to  refer  the  ruin  of  their  city  to  the  vengeance  of  Heaven 


128 


FOUR    APOSTLES. 


for  the  slaughter  of  so  holy  a  saint.  Doubtless  James, 
from  his  correct  habits,  was  shocked  at  the  occasional 
sins  of  Peter,  and  perhaps  he  was  not  quite  satisfied  with 
the  sharp  reasonings  and  metaphysical  theology  of  Paul. 
His  single  brief  letter,  full  of  concise,  epigrammatic  ex 
pressions,  runs  in  a  direction  not  to  controvert  Paul's, 
but  to  provide  for  a  want  Paul's  left  open.  Whether  or 
not  it  was  designed,  as  some  of  the  ancients  thought,  to 
be  a  reply  to  Paul,  it  is  at  any  rate  an  admirable  sequel. 
It  is  a  plea,  in  language,  for  the  noble  righteousness 
of  action  that  distinguished  his  character.  Paul  had 
said,  and  truly,  "  Ye  are  saved  by  faith."  James  added, 
"  Show  me  thy  faith  without  thy  works,  and  I  will  show 
thee  my  faith  by  my  works."  This  is  the  burden  of  his 
doctrine,  —  not  works  independent  of  faith,  not  mere  ex 
ternal  morality,  not  dry,  legal  obedience,  with  no  moist 
ure  and  no  root,  —  but  works  as  expressing  faith,  mani 
festing  it,  its  natural  fruit,  and  in  turn  re-acting  upon  it, 
to  confirm  and  multiply  it.  Paul  bids  us  believe  and 
we  shall  be  saved ;  James  says  "  Amen  "  to  this,  but  re 
minds  us,  that,  if  we  deal  justly,  and  follow  conscience, 
and  show  mercy  to  the  poor,  and  keep  the  law,  we  shall 
find  our  faith  increasing  thereby,  and  without  these  is 
no  salvation.  Paul  says,  "  Faith  cometh  by  hearing  "  ; 
James  exhorts,  "  Be  ye  doers  of  the  word,  and  not  hear 
ers  only,"  and  goes  on  to  explain,  that  mere  careless  hear 
ing  will  no  more  change  a  man,  than  looking  in  a  glass 
and  going  away  to  forget  the  image.  Paul  passes  a  glo 
rious  eulogy  upon  charity ;  James  explains  what  charity 
is,  and  is  not,  insisting  that  merely  to  say  to  the  hungry 
and  naked,  "  Go  along  and  be  warmed  and  fed,"  is  no 
charity,  just  as  a  faith  which  lies  inoperative  in  the  out 
ward  letter,  —  letting  the  man  cheat,  or  deceive,  or  op- 


FOUR   APOSTLES.  129 

press,  or  practise  dishonest  politics,  or  play  the  hypocrite 
in  his  daily  business  while  he  professes  it,  is  a  dead  faith. 
Paul  proclaims  the  immortal  truth,  lying,  as  I  believe, 
at  the  very  heart  of  the  Gospel,  "  By  God's  grace  are 
ye  saved,  and  that  not  of  yourselves  ;  it  is  free  gift." 
James  accepts  this  declaration,  but  urges  us  to  remem 
ber  that  the  spirit  must  have  a  body  ;  that  God's  free 
grace  is  granted  only  on  conditions,  and  may  be  detected 
by  certain  signs  ;  and  that  where  it  really  has  a  vital  seat 
within,  it  will  inevitably  bud  and  blossom  into  the  pure 
and  undefiled  religion,  which  visits  the  fatherless  and 
widows  in  their  affliction,  and  keeps  itself  unspotted 
from  the  world. 

Here,  then,  we  have  morality.  James  is  a  teacher  of 
ethics.  We  are  to  obey  the  commandments,  as  well  as 
feel  and  believe.  Alone,  this  legal  righteousness  will  be 
hard,  barren,  and  Jewish.  Doing  things  only  because 
they  are  commanded,  is  not  inspiring,  and  does  not  bring 
peace.  It  needs  the  infusion  of  Peter's  animating  im 
pulse,  and  Paul's  vivid  reliance  on  God  ;  needs  Peter's 
warm  blood,  and  Paul's  unshaken  confidence.  These 
will  yield  vitality  and  earnest  persistency.  We  have 
then  ardor,  conviction,  and  morality  ;  but  one  thing  is 
wanting  yet,  and  that  is  love.  We  get,  by  these  three, 
zeal,  faith,  and  works,  but  not  yet  perfect  peace. 

IV.  We  must  "summon,  therefore,  a  fourth  witness ; 
and  he  is  at  hand  in  the  person  of  John,  —  John,  whose 
love  for  Jesus  earned  for  him  the  epithet,  unequalled  in 
all  the  honors  and  dignities  of  the  world's  nobilities, 
"  the  Beloved  Disciple,"  —  gentle,  affectionate,  contem 
plative,  seraphic  John.  We  have  already  seen  him  very 
near  the  Saviour,  on  more  than  one  occasion  of  unusual 
solemnity,  in  private,  tender  fellowship.  It  was  he  who 


%   y*  . 


130  FOUR   APOSTLES. 

leaned  his  head  on  Jesus's  bosom  at  the  Supper ;  he  who 
received  from  the  lips  quivering  on  the  cross  that  dying 
charge,  "  Behold  thy  mother,"  —  and  thenceforth  took 
Mary  to  his  own  home ;  he  that  first  believed,  out  of  the 
fulness  of  his  trusting  heart,  after  the  stone .  was  rolled 
from  the  sepulchre;  he  that,  with  Peter,  wrought  the 
merciful  miracle,  and  healed  the  lame  man  at  the  gate  of 
the  temple  named  Beautiful,  and  made  it  more  worthy 
the  name  by  that  beautiful  compassion ;  he  that,  in  the 
infirmity  of  extreme  age,  when  his  voice  could  utter  no 
more,  stretched  out  his  hands,  every  Sabbath  morning, 
over  the  assembly,  and  said  that  simple  precept,  —  the 
rich  substance  of  many  longer  sermons,  —  "  Little  chil 
dren,  love  one  another."  His  Gospel  and  his  Epistles 
are  constant  breathings  of  spiritual  aspiration  and  be 
nignant  charity.  His  Gospel,  so  unlike  the  other  three, 
relates  few  incidents,  but  gives  us  more  of  Christ's  de 
vout  meditations  and  lofty  discourses.  It  opens  with  the 
mystical  passage  on  the  Logos,  or  Word  made  flesh ;  gives 
the  midnight  conversation,  couched  in  terms  that  seem 
to  borrow  mystery  from  the  shaded  scene,  with  Nico- 
demus,  on  the  New  Birth ;  repeats  all  that  symbolical 
language  of  Jesus,  since  become  so  precious  to  spiritual 
minds  in  his  Church,  where  he  describes  himself  and  his 
truth  under  the  analogy  of  Light,  Life,  Living  Bread,  a 
Fountain  of  Water,  and  pictures  sin  under  the  strong 
figures  of  Darkness  and  Death.  It  is  from  John  that  we 
have  the  divine  prayer  of  Jesus  before  his  agony ;  the 
mystical  words  about  the  soul  that  is  born  of  God  and 
dwells  in  God ;  the  whole  unfathomable  doctrine  of 
oneness  with  the  Father  and  the  Son  ;  the  touching  ac 
count  of  the  raising  of  Lazarus  at  Bethany ;  that  blessed 
chapter  of  consolation,  known  so  well  to  every  Christian 


FOUR   APOSTLES.  131 

heart  that  ever  suffered  by  pain  or  by  bereavement,  be 
ginning,  "  Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled  "  ;  all  the  pa 
thos  that  pervades  the  sorrowful  record  of  what  took 
place  before  the  crucifixion  ;  and  the  full  reports,  so  over 
flowing  with  the  fond  memories  of  Christian  grief,  of 
what  was  spoken  after  the  resurrection.  His  main  Epis 
tle  is  almost  a  repetition  of  these  few  comprehensive 
thoughts :  God  is  love  ;  beloved,  now  are  we  the  sons  of 
God  ;  love  one  another  ;  walk  in  the  light  of  life  ;  every 
man  hath  the  witness  in  himself ;  the  light  lighting  every 
man  that  cometh  into  the  world. 

In  one  word,  John  is  the  Apostle  of  spirituality.  He 
goes,  for  evidence,  proof,  satisfaction,  within,  into  the 
breast ;  not,  like  Paul,  with  dialectics  and  metaphysics, 
but  with  simple  love.  His  wisdom  is  of  the  heart ;  his 
faith  is  less  of  belief  than  trust ;  less  by  argument  than 
by  intuition.  His  view  of  Christianity  was  introspective 
and  subjective,  in  the  terms  of  philosophy  ;  but  he  was 
no  rationalist ;  for  with  all  his  soul  he  loved  a  supernat 
ural  Christ ;  and  his  doctrine  was  as  simple  as  a  child's 
thanksgiving.  No  Apostle  seems  to  have  clung  with 
such  reverential  affection  to  the  person  of  Jesus.  His 
faith  is  all  bound  up  in  that  personal  attachment.  For 
him  there  was  not,  as  for  any  of  us  there  cannot  be,  any 
Christianity  without  the  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  any  institu 
tional,  or  philosophical,  or  intellectual  Gospel,  without 
the  Son  of  Mary  crucified  and  ascended,  gone  from  the 
Bethlehem  stable  to  the  right  hand  of  his  Father. 

John,  then,  completes  the  full  Apostolic  manifestation 
of  Christian  character.  He  is  the  fourth  of  that  united 
quaternion  that  show  us  what  we  ought  to  be.  He 
adds  to  Peter's  fervor,  and  Paul's  belief,  and  James's  mo 
rality,  his  own  affection.  He  is  a  reconciler,  and  brings 


132  FOUR    APOSTLES. 

in  that  crowning  and  harmonizing  element  of  love  with 
out  which  zeal  and  faith  and  conscience  are  all  wanting. 
The  churches  blessed  with  his  living  superintendence 
were  scattered  over  Lesser  Asia.  Let  us  see  to  it  that 
over  all  churches,  this  our  church,  and  over  every  heart, 
broods  the  benignant  blessing  of  his  heavenly  spirit. 
His  countenance  has  been  portrayed  by  the  arts  as  ra 
diant  with  inspiration.  Let  the  beauty  of  his  gentleness 
shine  in  our  lives.  "  His  thoughts,"  says  Jerome,  one  of 
the  old  Fathers,  "  mounted,  like  an  eagle,  to  the  very 
throne  of  God."  It  is  not  too  much  to  believe,  that,  if 
we  commit  ourselves  cordially  to  their  guidance,  they 
well  bear  our  souls  up,  on  their  wings,  to  the  same 
heaven. 

Here,  then,  let  us  rest.  You  need  no  lengthened  ap 
plication  of  so  suggestive  a  subject.  Peter,  Paul,  James, 
John :  the  zealot,  the  believer,  the  moralist,  the  spiritual 
ist  ;  Impulse,  Conviction,  Law,  and  Love  ;  will,  intel 
lect,  conscience,  affection  ;  a  good  disposition,  a  clear 
faith,  a  right  life,  a  pure  heart.  These  are  the  constit 
uents  of  the  perfect  man. 

I  said  these  qualities  are  not  found  alone,  nor  without 
some  admixture  of  all  the  rest,  in  the  several  Apostles 
that  exemplify  them  ;  nor  is  any  of  them  held  as  by  ad 
verse  title  against  the  others.  Every  one  shares,  in  some 
less  degree,  in  the  ruling  peculiarity  of  his  companions. 
I  speak  only  of  the  trait  that  predominates  in  each,  and 
the  symmetry  that  comes  by  the  mutual  counterbalan 
cing  of  their  defects. 

Peter's  vacillation  is  offset  by  Paul's  steadfastness ; 
James's  regularity,  by  Peter's  impulsiveness  ;  John's  mys 
ticism,  by  James's  common  sense ;  Paul's  logical  under 
standing,  by  John's  affectionate  heart. 


FOUR    APOSTLES.  133 

We  should  go  to  Peter  for  animation,  to  Paul  for  a 
creed,  to  James  for  rules  of  behavior,  to  John  for  peace. 
Peter  supplies  hope ;  Paul,  steadfastness ;  James,  self- 
control  ;  John,  sensibility. 

In  your  own  lives,  take  something  excellent  from  each. 
Whether  your  natural  temperament  be  Petrine  or  Paul 
ine,  Jacobean  or  Johannean,  copy  what  is  imitable  in  all. 
Blend  their  virtues  and  graces  together.  Count  it  high 
honor  to  share  largely  in  the  attainments  of  any  one,  — 
but  better  still  to  gain  generous  proportions  by  following 
so  many.  Strive  to  expand  your  obedience,  and  stretch, 
by  ever  loftier  examples,  your  aspiration.  Quicken  zeal, 
strengthen  faith,  enlarge  beneficence,  and  deepen  love. 
Rejoice  that  the  Christian  standard  is  so  high,  is  infinite, 
is  unattainable  here ;  yet  struggle  none  the  less  to  rise 
to  it  hereafter.  Above  all,  labor,  and  watch,  and  pray, 
that,  looking  to  Him  who  is  greater  than  Apostles,  and 
Head  over  all  churches,  you  may  be  changed  into  the 
same  image,  finding  the  fulness  of  the  measure  of  the 
stature  of  Christ.  For  though  "  there  are  differences  of 
administrations,  there  is  the  same  Lord." 


12 


SERMON    X. 

ACCEPTANCE  OF  THE  HEAKT. 

SHE   HATH  DONE   WHAT   SHE   COULD. — Mark  XIV.  8. 

IN  many  aspects  of  it,  I  regard  this  simple  sentence  as 
one  of  the  most  encouraging  expressions  that  fell  from 
our  Lord's  lips.  It  was  uttered  in  defence  of  a  woman 
who  ventured  to  approach  the  Messiah  under  the  un 
ceremonious  impulse  of  affection,  destitute,  so  far  as 
we  know,  of  any  recommendation  from  family  circum 
stance  or  social  distinction,  but  urged  solely  by  an  ir 
resistible  longing  to  do  something,  however  humble  or 
irregular,  in  behalf  of  this  divine  friend,  who  has  gained 
the  unutterable,  enthusiastic  devotion  of  her  soul.  Had 
she  brought  those  badges  of  high  position  which  are  so 
potent  to  hush  the  criticism  and  rouse  the  admiration  of 
the  multitude,  had  she  come  bearing  the  recognized  au 
thority  of  some  official  alliance  or  lordly  husband's  es 
tate,  we  should  have  heard  no  complaints  of  the  waste 
of  the  ointment  that  she  poured  on  the  venerated  head. 
Still,  the  inherent  grace  and  beauty  of  the  act  forbade  any 
direct  reproof;  and  so  jealousy  meanly  suggests  that  the 
precious  perfume  might  have  been  better  sold,  the  price 
given  to  the  poor,  and  this  woman  have  rendered  her 
demonstrations  of  gratitude  in  some  more  "practical" 


ACCEPTANCE    OP    THE    HEART.  135 

or  active  way.  The  answer  of  Jesus  not  only  rebukes 
the  littleness  which  these  censures  betrayed,  but  it  in 
structively  vindicates  the  woman's  cordial,  unstudied  sac 
rifice,  and  not  hers  only,  but  the  offerings  of  humble 
loyalty  and  silent  love  to  him  in  all  time  and  over  all 
the  earth.  "  Let  her  alone  :  why  trouble  ye  her  ?  She 
hath  wrought  a  good  work  on  me.  She  hath  done  what 
she  could.  Wheresoever  this  Gospel  shall  be  preached 
throughout  the  whole  world,  this  that  she  hath  done 
shall  be  told  for  a  memorial  of  her."  It  is  the  accept 
ance,  by  the  Son  of  God,  of  lowly  and  retiring  good 
ness.  It  is  the  legitimation  and  approval  of  all  hearty 
gifts  to  the  Master,  by  the  Master's  voice.  It  is  the 
eternal  benediction  of  the  Gospel  on  despised  fidelity 
and  neglected  love. 

I  proceed  to  mention  some  of  the  bearings  of  this  sig 
nificant  saying,  which  show  it  to  be  full  of  encourage 
ment,  and  full  of  instruction. 

I.  The  first  of  these  is,  that  it  so  plainly  and  power 
fully  asserts  the  superior  worth  of  the  heart's  feeling 
over  any  outward  acts.  The  implication  of  Christ's 
language  certainly  is,  that,  so  far  as  doing  went,  this 
woman  had  but  small  title  to  consideration.  If  she 
were  to  be  judged  by  visible  achievements,  by  showy 
enterprises,  by  notable  charities  or  literary  fame,  her  life 
might  be  called  a  failure.  Nothing  in  the  way  of  per 
formances  marked  her  out  for  pre-eminence.  But  "  she 
had  done  what  she  could."  That  alone  made  her  pre 
eminent.  The  very  form  of  the  expression  implies  that, 
in  one  sense,  she  had  done  but  little.  Yet  that  little 
was  enough.  It  was  a  test  of  her  sincerity.  It  said 
distinctly  that  she  was  in  earnest.  The  costliness  of  her 
gift  in  proportion  to  her  means,  while  it  was  nothing  to 


136 


ACCEPTANCE    OP    THE    HEART. 


Him  she  would  honor,  was  a  guaranty  that  she  was  not 
trifling.  In  fact,  by  a  more  correct  rendering  of  the 
original,  the  Greek  word  translated  here  "  very  precious  " 
would  read  simply  "  pure "  or  "  unadulterated  "  spike 
nard,  —  not  "  costly."  Had  it  been  far  less  than  it  was, 
and  had  it  been  all  she  could  bring,  his  blessing  would 
have  been  the  same.  For  mind,  he  does  not  say,  "  Stop, 
consider,  this  alabaster-box  really  cost  a  good  deal  of 
money  ;  it  could  not  have  been  bought  for  less  than 
three  hundred  denarii."  No  ;  but  he  says,  "  She  hath 
done  what  she  could  "  ;  that  is,  she  hath  demonstrated 
the  deep  and  tender  attachment  of  her  soul.  She  be 
lieves  on  her  Lord.  She  loves  the  Saviour  for  his  holi 
ness,  his  mercy,  his  divine  benignity.  One  penny's 
worth,  if  it  is  only  the  utmost  that  self-denial  can  do,  is 
as  good  for  that  as  ten  thousand  shekels.  Did  he  not 
declare  as  much,  in  what  he  said  of  the  two  mites  that 
the  poor  widow  cast  into  the  temple-treasury  ?  Nay, 
did  he  not  equally  accept,  and  bless  with  the  same  favor, 
another  woman,  poorer  and  frailer  still,  who  had  noth 
ing  to  give  him  but  tears  and  kisses  for  his  feet  ?  The 
whole  spiritual  meaning  of  gifts  consists  in  the  dispo 
sition  of  the  giver.  Distinctions  of  weight  and  measure, 
standards  of  currency,  tables  of  value,  rates  of  exchange, 
calculations  of  outlay,  color,  material,  and  shape,  vanish 
before  that  simple  and  royal  touchstone  in  the  breast. 
It  is  felt  to  be  so,  even  in  the  presents  of  human  friend 
ship  ;  and  spiritual  sincerity  does  not  pass  for  less  in 
the  eyes  of  Him  who  searches  and  sees  the  heart,  than 
with  us. 

Had  the  question  been  between  actions  and  pro 
fessions,  Christ's  decision  would  have  been  different. 
Here  is  a  point  of  constant  mistake.  Professions  and 


ACCEPTANCE    OF    THE    HEART.  137 

feelings  are  not  equivalent.  As  compared  with  profes 
sions,  good  deeds  are  put  into  ever-lustrous  eminence, 
both  by  their  solid  quality,  and  by  that  grand  ref 
utation  of  all  talking  hypocrisy  and  ceremonial  cant, 
from  the  mouth  of  the  Judge  himself,  "  Not  every  one 
that  saith  unto  me,  '  Lord,  Lord,'  shall  enter  into 
the  kingdom  of  Heaven,  but  he  that  doeth  the  will 
of  my  Father."  We  cannot  be  wrong  —  if  there  is 
such  a  thing  as  truth  in  God's  universe,  we  must  be 
right  —  in  esteeming  one  palpable  and  ponderable  ac 
tion  in  Christ's  name  before  a  library  of  dogmatic 
credos,  subscription  to  the  straitest  ecclesiastical  vows, 
or  the  handsomest  adjustment  of  the  mantle  of  public 
conformity.  If  we  must  have  one  without  the  other, 
an  acre  of  statements  must  be  let  go  rather  than  an 
ounce  of  life.  This,  however,  is  not  the  alternative 
put  before  us  in  this  homage  of  the  Hebrew  woman. 
Christ's  eye  falls,  not  on  the  box  of  ointment,  as  if  to 
weigh  its  pretension  or  spell  out  some  article  of  a  Rab 
binical  creed  graven  on  its  cover,  but  it  falls  on  Mary's 
secret,  inmost  soul.  That  being  sound,  all  is  sound. 
She  believes,  she  trusts,  she  loves ;  therefore  "  she  hath 
done  what  she  could."  Out  of  that  deep  and  rooted 
affection  all  manner  of  obedient  fruits  must  grow,  in 
time,  as  surely  as  love  is  the  willing  servant  of  the 
beloved. 

And  here  opens  upon  us  a  great  spiritual  truth,  of  the 
utmost  practical  importance.  Nothing  is  more  common 
than  to  hear  this  among  the  private  confessions  of  earnest 
and  self-distrustful  persons,  wishing  they  could  feel  them 
selves  accepted  before  God :  "  There  is  so  little  that  I  have 
done,  so  little  that  I  can  do.  My  station  restricts  me,  my 
weakness  disables  me.  I  look  round  on  others,  and  they 


138  ACCEPTANCE    OF    THE    HEART. 

are  busy  and  useful,  earning  gratitude  or  fame.  Bat  I 
am  hemmed  in  by  four  narrow  walls,  or  by  narrower  cir 
cumstances.  Is  the  difficulty  in  them  or  in  me  ?  I  seem 
to  have  done  no  more  this  year  than  the  last,  and  to  gain 
nothing  in  achievement  as  I  go  on.  Regarding  either 
the  disinterested  Saviour  as  my  example,  or  his  toiling 
followers  even,  I  am  certainly  an  unprofitable  servant." 
Now,  supposing  this  to  be  sincere, —  and  we  must  have 
had  a  barren  experience  if  we  do  not  know  it  often  is,  — 
what  such  a  disciple  needs  for  encouragement  is  obviously 
the  very  doctrine  of  the  text.  "  She  hath  done  what  she 
could  " ;  and  the  one  thing  most  momentous,  most  central, 
most  decisive  of  all  that  can  be  done, —  she  hath  believed 
in  her  Lord.  There  is  no  station,  no  fortune,  no  bash- 
fulness  of  nature,  no  timidity  of  nerve,  no  obscurity  of 
condition,  where  that  is  not  possible,  and  where  the  joy 
and  glory  of  the  reward  thereof  may  not  arise  and  shine. 
Helpless  invalids,  reserved  women,  servants  under  com 
mand,  young  members  of  worldly  and  unsympathizing 
families,  may  all  trust  in  their  Divine  Friend  with  patient 
submission,  love  him  with  constant  devotion,  commune 
with  him  in  sincere  desires  for  his  excellence,  and  they 
can  try  for  ever  to  preserve  and  illustrate  his  gentle  and 
serene  and  disinterested  spirit.  If  they  do  this,  they 
ought  to  know  that  they  are  his,  to  dismiss  despondency, 
to  rely  on  his  promises,  to  count  themselves  committed 
and  accepted  friends  of  his  household  and  his  heart. 
They  shall,  one  day,  if  they  keep  that  temper  and  pur 
pose,  hear  him  say,  "  These  also  have  done  what  they 
could."  If  the  New  Testament  holds  forth  one  clear  doc 
trine,  it  is  that  character  before  God  is  determined  by  the 
state  of  the  affections  and  the  bent  of  the  will.  Where 
these  incline  selfward  or  earthward,  all  is  weak  and  wrong. 


ACCEPTANCE    OF    THE    HEART.  139 

You  have  not  done  what  you  could.  A  righteous  life  is 
not  an  accidental  appendage  to  a  good  heart,  but  an  in 
evitable  consequence  or  outflow  of  it.  Christ  and  his 
Apostles  understood  man's  profoundest  nature  when  they 
made  it  their  constant  answer  to  the  question,  "  What 
shall  I  do  to  be  saved,  or  to  win  eternal  life  ?"  —  ;<  Believe 
on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  with  all  thine  heart "  ;  for  they 
knew  this  was  what  each  and  all  could  do,  —  what  would 
prompt  every  other  needful  work  of  righteousness.  Do 
we  need  a  simpler,  more  spiritual,  or  more  invigorating 
revelation  ? 

II.  Again,  the  words  I  have  used  for  my  text  bestow 
a  blessing  on  the  feeling  of  personal  affection  towards 
Christ.  This  was  what  this  woman  had  shown  ;  it  was 
all  that  she  had  shown.  She  had  not  yet  gone  abroad 
into  public  duties ;  we  do  not  read  that  she  had  visited 
the  needy,  or  joined  in  any  public  measure  for  the  for 
warding  of  any  Christian  cause.  All  this  she  was  sure 
to  do,  just  so  fast  and  so  far  as  social  occasions,  her  own 
powers,  and  other  providential  conditions,  would  permit ; 
for  she  could  not  love  Clirist  without  loving  the  whole 
cause  for  which  he  lived,  the  whole  Church  of  which  he 
is  the  Head,  and  the  whole  world  for  which  he  died. 
But,  thus  far,  it  was  enough  to  know  that  she  could  give 
everything  for  the  Divine  Being  in  whom  all  these  move 
ments  and  reformations  centre.  There  are  times  when 
the  particular  must  make  way  and  give  place  to  the  gen 
eral.  The  Messiah  says,  very  strikingly,  and  in  this  con 
nection  :  "  The  poor  ye  have  always  with  you,  and  when 
soever  ye  will,  ye  may  do  them  good ;  but  me,"  in  the 
body,  "  ye  have  not  always.  She  is  come  aforehand  to 
anoint  my  body  to  the  burying.  She  hath  wrought  a 
good  work  on  me."  "  Her  gift,"  he  seems  to  add,  u  is 


140  ACCEPTANCE    OF    THE    HEART. 

an  unconscious  embalming  before  my  agony.  These 
most  sacred  impulses  of  divine  reverence  are  greater 
than  any  common  almsgivings.  Let  each  have  its  due. 
Whoso  loveth  me  will  love  my  poor,  and  serve  them  in 
the  time  and  place.  Let  the  heart  be  fastened  personally 
on  me  as  a  living  Redeemer,  and  Christian  duties  will 
soon  fall  into  their  order,  and  abound." 

The  wisdom  of  the  plan  of  the  mediation,  in  thus  giv 
ing  intensity  and  personality  to.  our  religious  affections, 
just  suits  itself  to  our  natural  wants.  You  are  familiar 
with  precisely  the  feeling  that  drove  this  woman  to  bring 
her  box  of  ointment,  provided  you  have  ever  had  that 
mingled  sense  of  gratitude  and  love  toward  a  person 
which  made  you  long,  above  all  things,  to  find  out  some 
way  of  serving  him,  and  made  it  a  positive  pain  to  be 
denied  that  privilege.  Such  are  the  reality  and  the  su 
premacy  of  personal  relationships  and  bonds.  A  relig 
ion  that  did  not  provide  ample  room  for  their  exercise,  by 
showing  us  the  Divine  perfection  under  human  condi 
tions,  would  lack  as  much  a  practical  hold  on  human 
sympathies,  as  it  would  a  philosophical  adaptation  to  the 
exigencies  of  the  moral  problem. 

III.  Further,  Christ's  words  of  defence  for  the  woman 
against  the  disaffected  by-standers  affirm,  for  true  good 
ness,  a  complete  independence  of  place.  It  is  a  familiar 
maxim,  among  Christian  didactics,  that  acceptance  with 
God  is  as  possible  in  small  fortunes,  or  limited  reputa 
tions,  as  where  power  carries  with  it  a  commensurate  in 
fluence,  and  the  object  of  many  popular  regards  is  sup 
posed  to  be  a  favorite  with  Heaven.  And  yet,  so  much 
is  our  judgment  controlled  by  appearances,  that  we  are 
constantly  falling  back  under  the  old  fallacy.  This  plain 
saying  of  Jesus  strikes  every  illusion  away.  "  She  hath 


ACCEPTANCE    OF    THE    HEART.  141 

done  what  she  could."  How  much  is  covered  by  that 
"  could,"  we  do  not  inquire.  Not  more,  probably,  than 
lies  in  the  power  of  every  one  of  us  at  this  moment.  Yet 
it  was  enough.  Then  neither  is  there  one  of  us  that  is 
excusable  from  the  full  requirement  of  Christ's  word,  nor 
is  there  one  to  whom  the  whole  infinite  wealth  of  his 
favor  is  not  offered. 

I  confess  that  I  sometimes  distrust  the  effect  of  fre 
quent  references  to  those  persons  who  have  been  led  into 
places  of  large  and  prominent  usefulness,  in  any  walk  of 
philanthropy.  As  instances  of  signal  energy,  self-sacri 
fice,  and  constancy,  they  stand  as  noble  examples  of 
what  humanity  may  accomplish.  And,  as  I  believe  the 
admiration  of  even  distant  greatness  to  be  a  wholesome 
emotion,  I  thank  God  for  such  illustrious  heroes  and 
martyrs.  But  we  misuse  them  greatly  if  we  ever  allow 
ourselves  to  feel  that  theirs  is  the  only  true  way  of  being 
great,  and  that,  because  we  cannot  serve  God  or  man  in 
some  such  famous  mode,  we  will  retire  from  the  field. 
That  is  sheer  unbelief.  We  ought  to  know  that  the  sen 
tence,  "  She  hath  done  what  she  could,"  is  just  as  suffi 
cient  and  adequate  for  the  ablest  as  the  most  infirm  ;  that 
it  is  enough  for  such  as  Elizabeth  Fry,  Hannah  More, 
and  Madame  Adorna,  and  no  more  than  enough  for  the 
unlettered  woman  carried  out  from  an  obscure  lane  last 
week,  having  died  in  the  joy  of  her  Lord,  and  her  name 
never  seen  in  printed  letters,  perhaps,  till  it  was  enrolled 
in  the  record  of  the  dead.  When  I  read  a  description  of 
Kaiserswerth,  near  Diisseldorf  on  the  Rhine,  —  of  that 
vast  establishment  of  Christian  mercy,  with  its  hospi 
tal,  insane  asylum,  Magdalen  retreat,  charity  schools,  and 
institutions  for  training  the  most  scientific  nurses  and 
accomplished  teachers,  graduating  superintendents  for 


142  ACCEPTANCE  OF  THE  HEART. 

the  humane  houses  of  both  Europe  and  America,  and  a 
few  miles  away  another  building  for  the  rest  and  refresh 
ment  of  those  that  have  been  worn  down  by  the  fatigues 
of  these  voluntary  labors  of  love,  —  when  I  see  how, 
throughout,  charity  has  been  systematized  by  skill,  and 
benevolence  perfected  by  perseverance,  and  then  behold 
the  benefits  flowing  forth  to  be  extended  and  multiplied, 
in  ever  enlarging  proportions,  over  the  whole  sick  and  suf 
fering  and  groaning  earth,  —  I  am  as  much  abashed  and 
humbled  before  this  devoted  Pastor  Fleidner,  whose  active 
spirit  and  benevolent  genius  have  called  up  all  this  busy 
and  organized  kingdom  of  Good-Samaritanism  about 
him  to  glorify  the  age,  as  I  suppose  my  sisters  are  before 
the  beautiful  and  accomplished  baroness  who  has  laid 
down  youth,  rank,  and  wealth  as  an  offering  to  sorrow 
and  disease  ;  or  before  the  high-born,  gifted,  and  admired 
English  girl*  who  came  to  Kaiserswerth  as  a  pupil,  and 
then  reproduced  the  same  wonders  of  consolation  and 
healing  for  sick  and  destitute  governesses,  —  not  amidst 
the  rural  quiet  and  sweet  verdure  of  her  own  paternal 
home  in  Hampshire,  but  in  a  dismal  street  in  London. 
Yet  we  ought  all  to  remember  that  these  too  only  did 
what  they  could ;  that,  if  we  do  that,  God's  honors  are 
impartial ;  that  if  we  do  not  that,  then  ours  is  indeed  the 
shame  of  the  short-coming.  And  when  we  follow  this 
last-mentioned  minister  of  angelic  mercy  cm  the  horrid 
and  bloody  path  of  war  to  the  banks  of  the  Bosphorus, 
and  read  how,  in  the  hospital  of  Scutari, 

"  Through  miles  of  pallets,  thickly  laid 
With  sickness  in  its  foulest  guise, 
And  pain,  in  forms  to  have  dismayed 
Man's  science-hardened  eyes, 

*  Florence  Nightingale. 


ACCEPTANCE    OF    THE    HEART.  143 

A  woman,  fragile,  pale,  and  tall, 
Upon  her  saintly  work  doth  move, 
Fair  or  not  fair,  who  knows  1  but  all 
Follow  her  face  with  love,"  — 

while  I  bow  with  reverent  confession  before  this  tran 
scendent  realized  vision  of  celestial  pity,  I  still  believe  we 
ought  not  to  forget  that  God  may  have,  that  he  asks, 
that  he  requires  of  us  that  there  shall  be,  servants  of  his 
love  as  self-denying,  as  heroic,  as  resolute,  of  whom  hos 
pital  never  knew  and  poetry  never  sang,  right  here  in 
these  homely  houses  and  these  prosaic  streets.  For  the 
hour  will  come  when  every  soul  that  hath  done  what  that 
soul  could,  shall  be  seen  on  the  right  hand  of  the  throne 
of  God. 

IV.  Again,  Christ's  encomium  on  the  affectionate 
Mary  announces  the  great  principle,  that  ability  is  the 
measure  of  responsibility.  No  soul  is  tasked  beyond  its 
power.  God's  commandment  never  passes  the  line  of  a 
possible  obedience,  and  so  never  goes  over  from  justice 
to  tyranny.  But  what  we  fail,  through  inability,  to  ren 
der  in  actual  work,  he  mercifully  permits  us,  through 
Christ,  to  make  up  in  those  penitent  and  self -renouncing 
affections,  which  gain  forgiveness,  and  open  the  way  of 
reconciliation.  If  any  one  dreams  this  is  a  lax  or  easy 
rule,  let  him  only  ask  himself,  in  a  still  and  thoughtful 
hour,  Have  I  done  what  I  could  ?  Has  my  service  to 
the  Master  reached  the  full  measure  of  the  powers  and 
gifts,  the  capacities  of  affection  and  the  opportunities  of 
well-doing,  with  which  my  Master  has  intrusted  me  ? 

This  language  of  the  Saviour  most  naturally  associates 
itself  with  the  closing  up  of  life's  great  account.  Of  how 
many  among  us,  when  that  trial-hour  comes,  with  all  its 
retrospections  and  searching  examinations,  can  those  glo- 


144  ACCEPTANCE    OF    THE    HEART. 

rious  words  be  spoken  ?  We  cannot  recall  nor  judge 
the  dead.  They  are  in  the  hands  of  the  All-Just.  But 
we  can  speak  to  one  another  as  yet  living.  How  many 
of  us  are  so  striving  righteously,  and  watching  soberly, 
and  praying  earnestly,  that  this  shall  be  the  just  and 
consoling  eulogy,  —  They  have  done  what  they  could  ? 
The  busy  man  of  affairs,  the  successful  one,  the  disap 
pointed  and  losing  one,  the  young  adventurer,  the  older 
and  long  trusted  and  finally  unfortunate  one,  —  those  that 
have  prospered  by  others'  industry,  and  those  that  have 
been  ruined  by  others'  crimes,  —  has  each  one  of  them 
done  what  he  could  ?  The  wife  or  mother  whose  very 
name  is  sacred,  because  the  sacred  office  of  forming  char 
acter  is  her  perpetual  duty,  the  lonely  •\voman  that  has 
only  her  own  heart  to  discipline,  the  young  girl  that  has 
so  few  cares  for  herself  that  God  requires  many  of  her 
for  the  less-favored,  —  has  each  done  what  she  could  ? 
The  bereaved  parent,  the  desolate  widow  suddenly  sum 
moned  to  take  up  the  dreary  and  dreadful  burden  of  soli 
tary  suffering,  —  has  each  done  what  she  could  ?  is  each 
one  doing  what  she  can  ?  Christ  draws  near  to  us,  and 
repeats  the  question.  He  turns  and  puts  it,  with  twofold 
solemnity  and  sadness,  to  those  that  leave  him  and  pass 
away.  To  all  that  sit  at  his  feet  and  follow  in  his  steps 
in  the  spirit  of  her  who  poured  the  fragrant  offering  on 
his  head,  he  is  ready  to  speak  the  same  benediction  with 
his  infinite  love,  —  hiding  in  it  the  sure  promise  of  life 
everlasting. 

I  said  we  cannot  adjudge  the  deservings  of  the  de 
parted.  But  we  can  guard  ourselves  against  those  hallu 
cinations  of  mortal  glory,  and  all  those  artificial  illusions, 
which  are  so  apt  to  cheat  our  souls,  and  obscure  the  plain 
truth  we  have  been  meditating.  There  goes  to  his  au- 


ACCEPTANCE    OF    THE    HEART.  145 

gust  repose,  enveloped  in  imperial  pomps,  the  ruler  of  the 
world's  mightiest,  vastest  empire.  Fifty-seven  millions 
of  human  souls,  embracing  nine  different  races  of  men, 
with  a  million  soldiers,  drew  their  daily  breath  subject 
to  his  direct  and  despotic  will ;  but  not  all  of  so  many 
millions  could  add  one  single  breath  to  his  prostrate 
lungs.  Eight  millions  of  square  miles  of  territory  were 
yesterday  ruled  by  his  word  ;  now  he  needs  not  eight  feet, 
out  of  it  all.  The  guns  of  massive  fortresses  on  the  huge 
ramparts  that  guard  widely  divided  waters  made  a  conti 
nent  tremble  in  their  volleying  answers  to  his  edicts,  and 
the  haughtiest  noblemen  of  the  world  bent  at  his  smile 
or  frown.  Common  cabinets  and  kings  were  perplexed 
and  afraid  at  the  cunning  of  his  brain,  as  boys  are  of 
their  master,  and  the  armies  of  the  strongest  governments, 
after  his  own,  felt  the  globe  to  be  a  more  conquerable 
and  practicable  domain,  the  moment  they  knew  he  was 
dead.  But  he  is  dead.  And  neither  the  millions  of 
acres  nor  men,  the  fortresses  nor  the  fears,  the  armies 
nor  the  brain,  shall  make  it  a  whit  easier,  but  harder 
rather,  for  his  single  soul  —  when  it  goes  alone,  disrobed 
of  crown  and  purple,  into  the  presence  of  the  King  of 
kings  whose  right  it  is  to  reign  —  to  answer  that  simple 
question,  Hast  thou  done  for  me  —  ah  !  for  me  —  what 
thou  couldst?  Canst  thou  stand  with  the  lowly  and 
powerless  woman  who  crept  with  the  box  of  ointment  to 
her  Redeemer's  feet,  and  who  shall  have  the  story  of  that 
act  of  love  told  for  a  memorial  of  her  wherever  the  ever 
lasting  Gospel  is  preached,  when  the  history  of  Cossack 
and  Czar  shall  be  dim  as  that  of  princes  before  the  flood, 
and  on  to  the  end  of  time  ? 

But  here,  close  by  us,  falls  asleep  a  meek,  patient  girl, 
—  a  faithful   sister,  an  obedient  daughter,  a  mild  and 

13 


146  ACCEPTANCE    OF    THE    HEART. 

friendly  counsellor  of  a  few  children  that  she  knew,  ruler 
of  none  on  earth  but  her  own  patient  spirit,  and  thereby 
made  greater  than  he  that  taketh  a  city,  or  prevents  its 
being  taken.  She  too  dies,  and  no  anxious  hemispheres 
dispute  about  the  report,  nor  do  kingdoms  mourn  nor 
cowardly  assemblies  clap  their  hands,  when  the  report  is 
confirmed.  And  in  the  day  when  the  secrets  of  all  hearts 
shall  be  revealed,  our  only  question  is,  which  of  these 
two  shall  be  found  nearest  to  Him  who  sitteth  on  the  one 
throne,  and  shall  \vear  the  crown  which  is  a  crown  of  life. 

There  seem  to  be  three  thoughts  that  offer  themselves 
to  us,  to  be  carried  away  as  the  practical  substance  of 
the  subject. 

One  is,  that  this  saying  of  Jesus  is  dangerously  per 
verted  and  shamefully  abused,  if  we  take  it  as  excusing 
us  from  the  utmost  effort  in  well-doing,  and  a  laborious 
progress  in  Christ's  service.  The  whole  tone  of  our  New 
Testament  religion  is  searching  and  high.  It  allows  no 
laxities,  and  no  apologies.  It  is  satisfied  with  nothing 
less  than  entire  consecration.  The  piety  it  asks  is  both 
active  and  ardent,  warm  and  constant,  ever  burning  and 
ever  advancing.  It  summons  into  the  Master's  service 
every  power,  every  energy,  every  affection,  every  hour  of 
life.  The  very  words  of  the  text  imply  a  strict  and  com 
prehensive  judgment.  For  which  one  of  us  could  truly 
say  to-day,  I  have  done  what  I  could  ? 

The  second  practical  lesson  is,  that,  in  order  to  serve 
Christ  acceptably,  we  have  not  to  revolutionize  our  lot, 
nor  to  seek  other  conditions  than  those  Providence 
supplies.  The  place  is  nothing ;  the  heart  is  all.  Cham 
bers  of  patient  invalids,  beds  of  submissive  sickness,  ob 
scurity,  weakness,  baffled  plans,  —  a  thousand  nameless 
limitations  of  faculty,  of  opportunity,  of  property,  —  all 


ACCEPTANCE    OF    THE    HEART.  147 

these  are  witnesses  of  silent  but  victorious  faith.  In  all 
of  them  God  is  glorified,  for  in  all  of  them  his  will  is 
done.  Out  of  all  of  them  gates  open  into  heaven  and 
the  joy  of  the  Lord.  Mercifully  the  Father  has  ap 
pointed  many  ways  in  which  we  may  walk  toward  his 
face,  and  run  on  his  errands.  Work  is  the  way  for 
strength ;  lying  still  is  the  way  for  infirmity,  if  only  there 
are  trust  and  prayer  in  both.  There  is  some  instruction 
in  a  picture  I  have  read  of,  which  represents  the  lives  of 
twin-brothers  diverging  from  the  cradle.  One,  by  study, 
becomes  a  learned  and  skilful  physician,  reaching  great 
riches  and  honors  by  ministering  to  the  sick.  The  other 
has  no  talent  for  books,  and  no  memory,  and  so  no  sci 
ence  ;  he  becomes  a  poor,  strolling  musician,  but  spends 
his  days  in  consoling,  by  his  lute,  sufferings  that  are 
beyond  all  medicine.  The  brothers  are  shown  meeting 
at  the  close  of  their  career.  The  vagrant  is  sick  and 
worn  out,  and  the  brother  prescribes  for  him  out  of  his 
learning,  and  gathers  ingenious  compounds  for  his  re 
lief;  but  meantime,  he  to  whom  God  gave  another 
gift  touches  his  instrument  for  the  solace  of  the  great 
man's,  shattered  nerves,  and  heals  his  benefactor's  disor 
dered  spirit. 

Finally,  there  is  no  service  thoroughly  right  which 
does  not  directly  acknowledge  and  honor  the  Saviour. 
The  heart's  offering  to  him  is  the  beginning  of  all  right 
eousness.  He  who  knoweth  our  frame  has  ordained  that 
our  spiritual  life  shall  grow  strong  and  earnest,  just  in 
proportion  as  our  personal  affections  and  faith  centre  in 
the  living  Saviour,  who  manifests  the  Father  unto  the 
world.  We  must  touch  his  garment,  sit  at  his  feet,  lean 
upon  his  cross.  So  we  are  made.  We  may  wonder  at 
the  way,  but  we  adore  it,  in  our  deeper  experience,  none 


148  ACCEPTANCE    OP    THE    HEART. 

the  less.  The  want  of  nature  our  Redeemer  blessedly 
supplies.  There  is  no  other  name  given  among  men 
whereby  we  can  be  saved.  And  it  is  they  who  do  what 
they  can  out  of  love  for  him  that  have  the  joy  of  hear 
ing,  in  his  own  voice,  "  Thy  faith  hath  saved  thee ;  go  in 
peace." 


SERMON    XI. 

WOMAN'S   POSITION. 

YET  IS   SHE   THY  COMPANION.  —  Mai.  U.  14. 

THE  main  proposition  is,  that,  for  the  wrongs  and  dis 
advantages  of  woman's  present  social  and  civil  condition, 
Christianity  offers  the  only  true  relief. 

Recent  measures  and  discussions  have  so  put  upon 
this  topic  a  new  aspect,  and  surrounded  it  with  new  as 
sociations,  that  it  can  hardly  be  opened,  even  in  a  sermon, 
without  some  reference  to  their  tendency.  I  shall  advert 
to  these  the  more  willingly,  because  they  involve  consid 
erations  that  lie  directly  in  the  course  of  our  inquiry.  A 
statement  of  the  main  principles  affecting  them  can  be 
compressed  into  a  brief  compass. 

The  problem  of  modern  speculation,  in  regard  to 
woman,  is  to  define  and  secure  her  rights.  Rights  imply 
wrongs :  a  reform  implies  abuses.  The  allegation  is, 
that,  hitherto,  civilized  society  has  abridged  woman's  free 
dom,  restricted  her  faculties,  and  doubted  her  capacity. 
The  charge  —  with  the  outward  demonstrations,  such  as 
conventions  and  treatises,  through  which  it  manifests  it 
self — =  has  this  significance,  that  it  discovers  a  spreading 
conviction  in  the  minds  of  the  people,  that  woman  is  not 
yet  fulfilling  her  whole  work  in  the  social  economy ;  which 


150 

I  hold  to  be  a  very  interesting  fact,  worthy  of  much  con 
sideration.  But  it  also  takes  an  unfortunate  form ;  be 
cause,  not  content  with  asserting  her  legitimate  preroga 
tives,  and  challenging  a  fair  field  for  their  exercise,  it 
attaches  an  un philosophical  importance  to  certain  out 
ward  and  subordinate  particulars ;  lodging  the  difficulty 
where  it  does  not  belong,  and  confusedly  mixing  together 
a  hostile  demand,  on  the  part  of  women,  for  being  what 
men  are,  with  a  righteous  aspiration  for  making  them 
selves  what  women  were  intended  to  be. 

After  all,  the  question  resolves  itself  into  one  of  inten 
tion  and  constitution.  Were  man  and  woman  designed 
by  creation  for  the  same  kinds  of  service,  endowed  with 
the  same  mental  aptitudes,  and  fitted  for  the  same  spe 
cies  of  success  and  distinction?  or  were  they  not?  If 
the  history  of  their  formation  teaches  anything ;  if  the 
facts  laid  open  by  daily  experience  prove  anything;  if 
organization  reveals  anything ;  if  that  law  of  the  Divine 
operations,  by  which  different  contrivances  imply  a  vari 
ety  of  purposes,  establishes  anything,  —  they  were  not. 

If,  now,  we  proceed  to  ask,  what  the  grand  mental 
or  moral  distinction  is,  and  what  the  peculiar  endow 
ments  of  each  are,  we  find  ourselves  obliged  to  speak 
only  in  very  general  terms;  for  the  attributes  in  which 
they  differ  are  shaded  off  into  other  attributes  in  wrhich 
they  are  alike.  Every  woman  possesses  many  mental 
characteristics  in  common  with  man ;  every  man  has 
some  feminine  traits.  Employ  any  classification  of  the 
powers  of  the  mind  you  please,  and  you  find  every  fac 
ulty  represented  in  both  man  and  woman,  —  understand 
ing  and  will,  consciousness  and  perception,  abstraction 
and  imagination,  love  and  hate,  fear  and  fortitude,  desire 
and  aversion  ;  for  they  are  both  human.  Nature  makes 


WOMAN'S  POSITION.  151 

"  a  female  Newton  and  a  male  siren."  The  difference, 
then,  must  be  in  the  differing  degrees  and  proportions  in 
which  these  faculties  are  mixed.  One  combination  of 
them,  so  commonly  found  as  to  form  a  rule,  constitutes 
the  interior  character  of  one  sex ;  another  combination,  of 
another.  Now,  the  real  relative  rights  of  each  of  the 
sexes  are  settled,  when  each  enjoys  an  opportunity  of  un 
folding  and  exercising  its  own  peculiar  character,  which 
ever  it  may  be,  suffering  no  obstruction  or  interference 
from  the  other. 

Bearing  in  mind  this  explanation,  it  may  be  asserted, 
without  offence,  that  the  distinguishing1  faculty  of  man  is 
mental  concentration ;  that  of  woman,  moral  impulse. 
Woman  is  the  representative  of  affection;  man,  of 
thought.  Woman  carries  her  strength  in  her  heart ; 
man,  in  his  head.  Neither  one  monopolizes  the  special 
department;  but,  by  eminence,  he  is  intellect,  —  she  is 
love. 

What  is  the  reason  some  of  us  are  not  quite  satisfied, 
in  woman's  behalf,  with  this  discrimination  ?  Simply 
because  so  many  of  us  —  men  arid  women  both  —  still 
labor  under  the  eld  unchristian  heresy,  that  the  heart  is 
inferior  to  the  head,  and  that  a  strong  intellect  is  more 
to  be  honored  than  a  good  spirit.  But  for  this  heathen 
ish  mistake,  woman  would  ascend  instantly  into  her 
rightful  superiority  in  the  scale  of  human  dignities. 

The  mistake  appears  first  in  the  unprincipled  vanity  of 
man.  He  stands,  with  his  stout  arms  and  executive 
will,  and  says  superciliously  to  the  woman :  "  It  is  enough 
for  you  to  be  good :  leave  power  to  me.  Content  your 
self  with  your  moral  dominion ;  practise  your  humble 
virtues  as  you  are  bid ;  and  I  will  rule  the  world  as  I 
please.  Keep  my  house ;  mend  my  clothes ;  cook  my 


152  WOMAN'S  POSITION. 

food  ;  see  that  I  am  comfortable ;  and  give  me  a  quiet  life. 
Be  thankful  that  your  obscure  situation  does  not  expose 
you  to  the  fierce  temptations  that  beset  my  more  splen 
did  career ;  and  accept  a  slave's  security  as  an  offset  for 
the  slave's  humiliation."  This  man  allows  her  moral  pre 
eminence  ;  but  he  teaches  her,  and  flatters  himself,  that 
far  above  this  pre-eminence  towers  that  ability  of  his 
own  which  makes  money,  speeches,  or  reputation.  It  is 
the  same  selfish  arrogance  that  prompted  the  great  Greek 
tragedian  to  say,  in  one  of  his  chief  productions,  "  Better 
a  thousand  women  should  persish,  than  that  one  man 
should  cease  to  see  the  light."  Traces  of  the  same  con 
temptible  feeling  are  seen  in  the  literature  of  later  ages, 
especially  in  periods  of  corrupt  morals  and  general  scep 
ticism,  as  well  as  in  the  patronizing  manners  with  which 
vile  men  fawn  on  women,  with  base  flatteries,  in  their 
presence,  and  sneer  at  their  virtue,  or  exult  over  the  scan 
dals  of  their  frailty,  with  one  another.  We  have  not  yet 
quite  attained  even  to  that  rudimentary  truth,  that  "  wo 
men  are  not  born  merely  that  men  might  not  be  lonely, 
but  are  in  themselves  possessors  of  immortal  souls." 

The  same  mistake  appears  in  ambitious  woman  her 
self,  when,  instead  of  accepting  this  her  glorious  distinc 
tion,  -and  wearing  it  as  the  unrivalled  honor,  she  longs 
impatiently  for  some  more  pompous  but  ignobler  fame. 
The  reason  she  feels  herself  insulted  by  the  theory,  that 
man  represents  the  head,  and  she  the  heart,  —  as  if  some 
advantage  were  thereby  referred  to  man, — is  because 
she  is  not  yet  thoroughly  a  Christian ;  is  not  willing  to 
acknowledge  that  the  heart  is  greater,  nobler,  wiser  than 
the  head,  goodness  than  mere  intellect,  love  than  logic, 
purity  than  eloquence,  holy  living  than  able  reasoning. 
She  lingers  still  'under  the  old  barbarous  error  which  sets 


153 

Napoleon  above  Howard,  Byron  over  Wesley,  Mary 
Wolstonecraft  over  Sarah  Martin,  and  a  wicked  orator 
over  a  working  saint.  Herein  we  are  all  still  stumbling 
among  the  elements,  disloyal  to  that  Gospel  which  is  a 
dispensation  to  the  affections.  It  is  a  delusion  —  lodged 
so  deep  in  human  judgments  that  it  will  be  the  last  to 
be  dispossessed  by  the  triumphant  banners  of  the  cross  — 
that  the  strong  brain  is  nobler  than  the  meek  and  lowly 
spirit;  that  they  who  "seek  after  a  sign,"  or  "require 
wisdom,"  and  not  the  "  pure  in  heart,"  "  shall  see  God." 
Woman  commits  the  same  error,  when,  in  the  choice  of 
her  models  for  imitation  from  her  own  sex,  she  prefers  the 
brilliancy  of  Madame  de  Stael  to  the  calm  excellence  of 
Elizabeth  Hamilton;  envies  Lady  Blessington,  or  even 
Madame  Dudevant,  above  Mrs.  Barbauld ;  and,  in  her 
heart,  would  rather  have  Jenny  Lind  Goldschmidt's  fame, 
genius,  and  admiration,  than  her  charity.  Still  more 
grossly  does  she  err  —  because  she  then  ruins  her  self-re 
spect  and  her  social  and  moral  independence  —  when  she 
shows  it  to  be,  or  suffers  it  to  be,  the  first  doctrine  of  her 
practical  catechism,  that  the  chief  end  of  woman  is  to  be 
married  to  a  man. 

Is  it  nothing  for  woman  to  remember,  when  her  sex  is 
made  the  type  and  tabernacle  of  Love,  that  we  have  as 
cribed  the  loftiest  glory  even  to  the  Almighty  Father 
when  we  have  said  that  his  name  is  Love  ?  Is  it  noth 
ing  to  her  that  her  place  in  society  and  her  powers  in  the 
world  correspond  to  her  character  ?  that  while  she  shares 
with  man,  in  honorable  and  often  equal  measure,  certainly 
in  these  modern  times,  every  intellectual  privilege,  liter 
ary  accomplishment,  and  public  function,  —  authorship, 
the  chair  of  science,  the  throne  of  state,  —  she  yet  has  a 
realm  all  her  own,  sacred  to  her  peculiar  ministry,  where 


154 

she  reigns  by  a  still  diviner  right  ?  Is  it  nothing  that  it  is 
her  face  which  first  bends  over  the  breathing  child,  looks 
into  his  eyes,  welcomes  him  to  life,  steadies  his  uncer 
tain  feet  until  they  walk  firmly  on  the  planet  ?  Suppose 
man  were  the  natural  enemy  of  woman ;  consider  that 
from  his  birth,  for  the  first  ten  years  of  his  life,  he  is  put 
into  her  hands,  with  scarcely  a  reservation  or  exception, 
to  be  impressed,  moulded,  fashioned  into  what  she  will, 
—  so  that,  if  he  were  born  a  wild  tiger,  her  benignity 
would  have  its  opportunity  to  tame  him ;  consider  that 
it  has  been  historically  demonstrated  that  scarcely  a  sin 
gle  hero,  reformer,  statesman,  saint,  or  sage,  has  ever 
come  to  influence  or  adorn  his  age,  from  Jacob  to  Wash 
ington,  who  was  not  reared  by  a  remarkable  mother  that 
shaped  his  mind ;  and  then  ask  whether  it  is  not  equal 
folly  for  woman  to  claim  the  name  of  power,  and  for 
man  to  deny  her  the  possession. 

The  genius  of  controversy  never  evoked  from  the 
<c  vasty  deep "  of  free  discussion  a  more  infelicitous 
spirit,  nor  achieved  a  more  unprofitable  issue,  than  when 
it  opened  the  unnatural  question  of  the  comparative 
merits  of  the  sexes ;  and  for  the  reason,  that  the  whole 
design  and  constitution  of  their  being,  the  law  of  their 
mutual  relation,  and  the  primitive  providential  distinc 
tion  in  their  respective  functions,  make  every  such  com 
parison  an  impertinence.  The  first  record  of  God's 
creative  act — "male  and  female  created  he  them'7  — 
ought  to  have  foreclosed  for  ever  this  worse  than  fratri 
cidal  strife.  Whichever  way  the  controversy  should  be 
decided,  the  decision  would  be  wrong.  Comparative 
merits  of  man  and  woman !  There  are  no  terms  in 
which  such  a  comparison  can  be  drawn.  You  might 
as  well  inquire  which  of  any  two  of  the  great  essential 


155 

elements  of  existence,  or  laws  of  matter,  or  faculties  of 
mind,  could  best  be  spared ;  you  might  as  well  ask,  re 
specting  any  of  those  grand  dualities  between  which 
the  sublime  order  of  nature  is  poised,  and  unity  is  pre 
served,  which  member  of  the  equation  is  most  impor 
tant  ;  you  might  as  well  debate  the  comparative  merits 
of  spring  and  autumn,  of  morning  and  evening,  of  oxy 
gen  and  hydrogen,  of  the  bones  and  the  blood,  of  mem 
ory  and  hope,  of  the  centripetal  and  centrifugal  attrac 
tions.  Each  holds  its  title  by  the  ordaining  of  a  divine 
plan  ;  and  the  displacement  of  either  from  its  sphere 
would  be  a  resolution  of  the  whole  system  into  chaos. 
The  whole  controversy  is  a  monstrous  absurdity,  con 
ceived  in  a  miserable  jealousy,  prosecuted  by  an  in 
sane  insurrection  against  good  manners,  and  sure  to 
end  in  nothing  but  a  profane  putting  asunder  of  what 
God  has  married  together.  "  Yet  she  is  thy  compan 
ion." 

But  the  question  forces  itself  back,  whether,  in  the 
civilization  of  the  past,  woman  has  found  a  fair  and 
equal  qhance  for  the  development  of  the  powers  God  has 
intrusted  peculiarly  to  her,  as  man  has  found  for  the  de 
velopment  of  those  granted  peculiarly  to  him.  Mani 
festly  she  has  not.  And  here  we  find  the  special  dig 
nity  conferred  upon  her  by  Christianity ;  here  appears 
her  chief  indebtedness  to  Christ.  Just  as  fast  as  that 
new  spiritual  ministry  has  made  itself  felt  on  human 
institutions,  her  real  rights  have  been  recognized.  So 
it  will  be  more  and  more  :  as  the  day  of  Christian  sun 
light  broadens,  the  horizon  of  her  appropriate  duties  will 
expand.  Nor  is  there  any  danger,  so  long  as  religion 
guides  her  progress,  that  there  will  be  any  confusion  of 
claims,  or  crossing  of  lines,  between  her  loftier  offices 


156 

and  the  humbler  and  rougher  tasks  of  her  muscular  com 
panion,  —  man. 

In  the  pagan  antiquity,  woman  was  hopelessly  de 
graded  by  polygamy,  as  she  still  is  under  the  Oriental 
barbarisms,  and  in  savage  society  generally.  A  rigorous 
seclusion,  dictated  by  jealous  passions,  shuts  her  in  from 
all  free  opportunities  of  ennobling  influence  and  all  the 
dignity  of  usefulness.  The  imperious  will  of  her  des 
potic  lord  imprisons  her  spirit,  as  the  harem  does  her 
body.  And  it  must  be  confessed  that,  in  some  of  our 
houses  in  Christendom,  the  spirit  of  these  gross  wrongs, 
if  not  their  form,  is  renewed  by  selfish  and  vulgar  hus 
bands,  who  would  rather  find  in  their  wives  a  toy  for 
idle  hows,  an  animal  pleasure,  or  a  pride  from  the  ad 
miration  they  command  in  assemblies,  than  an  impulse 
to  their  own  intellects,  a  benignant  influence  drawing 
them  out  of  their  worldliness,  or  a  guardian  to  their  vir 
tue.  These  are  the  houses  where  Christianity  may  be  a 
name,  but  has  not  come  in  renewing  power.  The  in 
mates  are  Turks  or  Hindoos  still. 

It  is  true,  in  some  of  the  more  refined  of  the  old  na 
tions  of  the  East,  a  few  examples  appeared  where  wo 
man  escaped  these  restrictions  on  her  freedom.  Plato, 
in  his  "  Divine  Dialogues,"  introduces  a  maxim,  which, 
by  implication,  renders  a  worthy  tribute  to  woman,  to 
the  effect,  that  whatever  was  most  excellent  in  the  state 
must  always  begin  at  the  fireside.  But  too  often,  like 
Aspasia,  Sappho,  Helen,  and  Cleopatra,  she  gained  both 
her  liberty  and  her  celebrity  at  the  expense  of  her  mod 
esty.  The  alternative  lay  between  obscurity  and  effron 
tery.  The  rare  names  that  stand  altogether  above  re 
proach  in  the  ancient  literature  —  names  that  classical 
veneration  repeats  with  enthusiasm  till  to-day  —  were 


157 

generally  the  ideal  creations  of  some  poet's  or  artist's 
fancy,  rather  than  actual  women  dwelling  in  flesh  and 
blood.  In  the  Roman  empire,  as  in  the  Greek  oligarchy, 
when  woman  emerged  from  her  state  of  abject  servitude, 
it  was  only  to  take  a  share  in  the  impure  ceremonies  and 
dances  of  an  idolatrous  worship,  and  thus  to  pass  forth 
upon  the  theatre  of  a  voluptuous  publicity.  The  heathen 
religions  had  no  word  to  raise  woman  to  her  true  equal 
ity  with  man ;  and,  by  consequence,  the  woman  and  the 
man  and  the  religions  must  needs  sink  together  into  de 
struction. 

The  introduction   of   Christianity   formed   the   grand 
epoch  in  the  condition  of  woman.     But  even  Christian 
ideas  did  not  spring  full-grown  into  history ;  and  so  the 
elevation  of  female  character  to  its  true  rank  has  been 
gradual.     How  it  was  originally  regarded,  by  the  pure 
spirit  of  the  New  Testament,  certainly  admits  no  doubt. 
The  spiritual  insight  of  Jesus  saw  that  the  readiest  and 
clearest  reception  of  his  heavenly  doctrine  was  in  the 
heart  of  woman.      With  what  dignified  tenderness  he 
always  saluted  her !     The  hospitalities  of  the  sisters  at 
Bethany ;   the  tears  and  ointment  of  Mary  Magdalen ; 
the   dying  looks   and  immortal  blessings    bestowed   on 
those  that  were  "last  at  the  cross,  and  earliest  at  the 
grave  " ;  the  honorable  offices  of  charitable  ministration 
assigned  to  females  in  the  Apostolic  Church,  —  all  these 
were   only   fit  proofs  of  the  estimation  in  which  that 
Saviour  held  woman,  who  was  to  be,  down  through  all 
future  ages,  the  unfailing  refuge  of  her  spirit,  the  com 
panion  of  her  solitude,  the  rest  of  her  weariness,  the  com- 
passionator  of  her  frailty,  the  comforter  of  her  pain.     By 
its  indestructible  reverence  for  the  virgin  mother  of  our 
Lord,  the  Christian  Church  has  not  only  woven  into  its 
u 


158 

sentiments  a  new  idea  of  woman,  but  it  has  done  some 
thing  to  cancel  the  contempt  that  was  thrown  upon  her 
in  the  person  of  Eve,  the  seduced  of  Satan.  If  woman 
was  the  first  in  the  world  to  sin,  it  was  on  her  breast  also 
that  its  Redeemer  was  nourished ;  and  Bethlehem  has 
atoned  for  Eden.  Abating  its  superstitious  excesses, 
the  homage  paid  to  the  Madonna  is  a  consecration  of 
womanhood  quite  becoming  a  religion  that  displaced 
paganism,  and  condemns  sensuality. 

Since  the  primitive  age  of  the  Church,  however,  the 
condition  of  woman  has  shared  in  the  slow  progress  of 
religious  ideas  generally.  Civilization  has  never  more 
than  partially  realized  Christianity.  But  the  advance 
has  been  steady.  The  greatest  hinderance  it  has  ex 
perienced  was  in  an  institution  which  superficial  judg 
ments  have  often  instanced  as  promoting  it,  —  the  chiv 
alry  of  the  Middle  Ages.  The  honor  paid  by  knight- 
errantry  to  woman  was  a  false  honor.  The  hollow  com 
plaisance  of  the  courtier  covered  a  low  style  of  morals  ; 
and  the  romance  of  chivalry  was  rather  the  flattering 
gallantry  of  passion,  than  an  honest  and  substantial  rec 
ognition  of  woman's  actual  worth..  It  is  this  chivalry 
that  has  too  much  given  law  and  fashion  to  the  relation 
of  the  sexes  ever  since,  —  substituting  the  forms  of  ef 
feminate  courtesy  for  sterling  respect,  and  bringing  in 
that  foolish  style  of  manners  where  women  are  fawned 
upon  with  empty  compliments  and  polite  nothings,  in 
stead  of  being  frankly  met  with  intelligence,  good  sense, 
and  genuine  deference. 

The  next  great  impulse  was  given  to  female  culture 
when  the  Saxon  element  began  to  be  felrin  history,  and 
out  of  the  old  German  forests  came  forth  those  stanch 
hearts  and  heroic  hands  that  were  thenceforth  to  rule  the 


WOMAN'S  POSITION.  159 

destinies  of  Christendom.  They  were  true  respecters  of 
woman.  They  were  the  first  people  that,  independently 
of  Christianity,  rendered  to  her  her  natural  rights.  They 
made  her  a  companion,  a  counsellor,  a  confidante,  —  not 
a  servant,  a  mistress,  nor  a  doll.  And  when  Christianity 
came  and  grafted  its  heavenly  spirit  on  that  noble  stock, 
new  examples  began  to  be  witnessed  of  female  capacity 
and  character.  The  Church  was  never,  indeed,  with 
out  its  female  saints  and  heroines;  though  only  a  few 
names,  like  those  of  Theresa,  Catharine  Adorna,  Madame 
Guyon,  and  Joan  of  Arc,  have  travelled  down  to  us  from 
the  Catholic  ages.  Protestantism  has  its  higher  illus 
trations  of  dauntless  courage,  genius,  and  piety,  in  let 
ters,  art,  and  philanthropy,  from  such  as  Lady  Russell 
and  Hannah  More,  Dorothy  Dix  and  Elizabeth  Fry, 
Frederika  Bremer  and  Hannah  Adams,  Harriet  Newell 
and  Mary  Ware.  It  is  unquestionable,  that  loftier  and 
more  abundant  examples  of  high-hearted  womanhood 
are  living  to-day,  than  in  any  hour  of  history  before. 

Accordingly,  as  we  should  expect,  there  is  hardly  a 
walk  of  public  or  private  life  where  female  talent  is  not 
heartily  honored,  and  does  not  command  its  deserved 
success.  The  fine  arts,  the  sciences,  classical  learning, 
social  reform,  philosophy,  education,  empire,  —  all  are 
represented  at  this  day  by  accomplished  women.  Do 
they  suffer  detriment,  or  loss  of  influence,  because  they 
are  women  ?  Is  Mrs.  Somerville,  or  Miss  Mitchell,  less 
esteemed  among  the  scientific  minds  of  the  age  for  her 
sex  ?  Does  not  the  whole  British  kingdom  learn  a 
heightened  regard  for  woman  from  the  womanly  char 
acter  it  beholds  in  its  queen  ?  Is  there  a  department  of 
knowledge  from  which  woman  is  now,  by  our  modern 
systems  of  education,  shut  out  ?  Must  it  not  be  very 


160 


soon  true  that  her  power  shall  be  proportioned  to  her 
energy,  and  her  influence  be  measured  only  by  her 
-merit?  Probably  the  larger  proportion  of  scholarship 
and  public  enterprise  will  still  be  with  men,  —  the 
providential  constitution  of  the  sexes  justifies  that  ex 
pectation  ;  but  when  exceptions  appear,  the  demand  of 
Christian  liberty  is,  that  they  be  welcomed,  recognized, 
and  rewarded. 

Some  disabilities,  however,  still  accrue  to  woman,  es 
pecially  in  respect  to  property,  and  just  payment  for  her 
labor.  Tasks  that  she  is  fully  competent  to  every  way, 
public  opinion  and  false  custom  will  not  let  her  do, 
cruelly  telling  her  she  shall  sooner  starve  ;  and  for  work 
that  she  actually  does  as  well  and  as  rapidly  as  her  com 
panion,  man,  she  receives  only  a  quarter  of  his  wages  ; 
both  of  which  are  wrongs  that  Christianity  rebukes  as 
clearly  as  it  does  slavery  or  defalcation,  and  wrongs  that 
Christian  men  must  speedily  remedy,  or  else  cease  to  be 
Christians,  and  well-nigh  cease  to  be  men.  Already  they 
are  partly  remedied,  in  countries  otherwise  less  advanced 
than  our  own,  by  protection  granted  to  woman  in  em 
ployments  that  sustain  her  independence  and  shield  her 
virtue. 

A  darker  wrong  yet  is  strangely  done  to  woman  by 
that  obstinate  and  most  unrighteous  judgment  of  men, 
which,  not  satisfied  that  she  should  sustain  all  the  se 
verer  agonies  that  attend  the  perpetuating  of  the  race, 
insists  on  extending  a  vile  toleration  to  the  wretch  who 
ruins  her  virtue  and  robs  her  of  her  peace,  passing  over 
his  "  deep  damnation  "  as  a  venial  thing ;  while  it  mer 
cilessly  dooms  and  casts  off  the  Magdalens,  barring  every 
gate  against  their  return  to  purity. 

What,  then,  briefly,  in  respect  to  woman's  social  posi- 


161 

tion  amongst  us,  as  it  is,  —  her  rights  and  her  power,  — 
are  her  own  immediate  duties,  and  those  of  man  in  her 
behalf? 

First,  of  man's.  Let  him  learn  to  be  grateful  to  wo 
man  for  this  undoubted  achievement  of  her  sex,  that  it  is 
she  —  she  far  more1  than  he,  and  she  too  often  in  despite 
of  him  —  who  has  kept  Christendom  from  lapsing  back 
into  barbarism,  —  kept  mercy  and  truth  from  being  ut 
terly  overborne  by  those  two  greedy  monsters,  money 
and  war.  Let  him  be  grateful  for  this,  that  almost  every 
great  soul  that  has  led  forward  or  lifted  up  the  race  has 
been  furnished  for  each  noble  deed,  and  inspired  with 
each  patriotic  and  holy  aspiration,  by  the  retiring  forti 
tude  of  some  Spartan,  or  more  than  Spartan,  —  some 
Christian  mother.  Moses,  the  deliverer  of  his  people, 
drawn  out  of  the  Nile  by  the  king's  daughter,  some  one 
has  hinted,  is  only  a  symbol  of  the  way  that  woman's 
better  instincts  always  outwit  the  tyrannical  diplomacy 
of  man.  Let  him  cheerfully  remember,  that,  though  the 
sinewy  sex  achieves  enterprises  on  public  theatres,  it  is 
the  nerve  and  sensibility  of  the  other  that  arm  the  mind 
and  inflame  the  soul  in  secret.  "  A  man  discovered 
America ;  but  a  woman  equipped  the  voyage."  So 
everywhere  :  man  executes  the  performance ;  but  woman 
trains  the  man.  Every  effectual  person,  leaving  his  mark 
on  the  world,  is  but  another  Columbus,  for  whose  fur 
nishing  some  Isabella,  in  the  form  of  his  mother,  lays 
down  her  jewelry,  her  vanities,  her  comfort. 

Above  all,  let  not  men  practise  on  woman  the  perpet 
ual  and  shameful  falsehood  of  pretending  admiration 
and  acting  contempt.  Let  them  not  exhaust  their  kind 
ness  in  adorning  her  person,  and  ask  in  return  the  humil 
iation  of  her  soul.  Let  them  not  assent  to  her  every 

14* 


162 

opinion,  as  if  she  were  not  strong  enough  to  maintain  it 
against  opposition  ;  nor  yet  manufacture  opinion  for  her, 
and  force  it  on  to  her  lips  by  dictation.  Let  them  not 
crucify  her  emotions,  nor  ridicule  her  frailty,  nor  crush 
her  individuality,  -nor  insult  her  dependence,  nor  play  off 
mean  jests  upon  her  honor  in  convivial  companies,  nor 
bandy  unclean  doubts  of  her,  as  a  wretched  substitute 
for  wit,  nor  whisper  vulgar  suspicions  of  her  purity, 
which,  as  compared  with  their  own,  is  like  the  immacu 
late  whiteness  of  angels.  Let  them  remember,  that  for 
the  ghastly  spectacle  of  her  blasted  chastity  they  are 
answerable.  Let  them  multiply  her  social  advantages, 
enhance  her  dignity,  minister  to  her  intelligence,  and,  by 
manly  gentleness,  be  the  champions  of  her  genius,  the 
friends  of  her  fortunes,  and  the  equals,  if  they  can,  of  her 
heart.  And  if  any  man  is  tempted  to  that  meanest  of 
unmanly  tricks,  —  making  a  woman  his  wife  that  he 
may  buy  for  himself,  by  a  husband's  name,  riches  or  so 
cial  standing  or  popular  favor,  —  let  him  take  the  spirited 
advice  of  a  true  woman-poet  to  Prince  Albert  at  his 
wedding :  — 

"  Esteem  that  wedded  hand  less  dear  for  sceptre  than  for  ring ; 
And  hold  her  uncrowned  womanhood  to  be  the  royal  thing." 

Be  the  husband  the  "  head  of  the  wife,"  not  as  despot  or 
voluptuary,  but  in  that  holier  headship  signified  by  the 
Apostle,  as  Christ  is  the  Head  of  his  Church.  "  Yet  is 
she  thy  companion." 

And,  finally,  of  woman's  duties  for  herself.  For  the 
wrongs  that  remain  to  her  position,  and  the  disabilities 
that  man's  too  selfish  and  partially  Christianized  nature 
has  not  yet  removed,  let  her  not,  in  the  name  of  all  that 
is  lovely  and  all  that  is  skilful,  go  to  separatist  conven- 


163 

tions,  nor  to  the  platform,  nor  to  novel  schemes  of  politi 
cal  economy  or  social  re-organization  ;  but  to  that 'moral 
tribunal,  where  she  is  as  sure  to  win  her  cause  at  last  as 
the  sunlight  is  to  compel  a  summer.  Let  her  take  up 
and  wield  the  spiritual  sovereignty  that  is  her  everlasting 
birthright.  Let  her  understand  —  what  so  few  of  her 
sex  have  been  willing  to  learn  to  this  hour  —  the  power 
lodged  in  her  whole  spirit  and  voice  and  look  and  action 
for  or  against  the  kingdom  of  Heaven.  Let  her  be  con 
tent  with  the  possession  and  exercise  of  power,  in  all  its 
higher  forms,  without  that  appendage  which  unhallowed 
pride  is  for  ever  insisting  on,  —  the  name  of  it.  Let  her 
unfold  every  nobler  faculty  that  our  imperfect  social  state 
invites  ;'  and  then  be  sure  that  the  social  state  will  ripen 
into  more  perfect  humanities,  and  full  justice  come  at 
last.  Let  her  be  the  brave  domestic  advocate  of  every 
virtue,  the  silent  but  effectual  reformer  of  every  vice,  the 
unflinching  destroyer  of  falsehood,  the  generous  patroness 
of  intelligence,  the  watcher  by  slandered  innocence,  the 
guardian  of  childhood,  the  minister  of  Heaven  to  home, 
the  guide  of  orphans,  the  sister  of  the  poor,  the  disciple 
of  Christ's  holy  Church.  On  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  —  all 
fails  except  for  this,  —  on  the  Saviour's  heart,  let  her 
rest  her  unchangeable  and  unassailable  hope,  her  unques 
tioning  trust,  her  unconquerable  love. 

For  then  shall  man  and  woman  be  fellow-helpers  to 
the  truth  ;  marriage,  the  pure  sacrament  of  a  spiritual 
faith  ;  and  families  on  earth,  humbler  branches  of  the 
great  family  of  heaven. 


SERMON     XII. 

THE    CHEISTIAN   WOMAN. 

WHOSE  ABORNING,  LET  IT  NOT  BE  THAT  OUTWARD  ADORNING 
OF  PLAITING  THE  HAIR,  AND  OF  WEARING  OF  GOLD,  OR  OF 
PUTTING  ON  OF  APPAREL;  BUT  LET  IT  BE  THE  HIDDEN  MAN 
OF  THE  HEART,  IN  THAT  WHICH  IS  NOT  CORRUPTIBLE,  EVEN 
THE  ORNAMENT  OF  A  MEEK  AND  QUIET  SPIRIT,  WHICH  IS  IN 
THE  SIGHT  OF  GOD  OF  GREAT  PRICE.  FOR  AFTER  THIS  MAN 
NER,  IN  THE  OLD  TIME,  THE  HOLY  WOMEN  ALSO,  WHO  TRUST 
ED  IN  GOD,  ADORNED  THEMSELVES.  —  1  Peter  iii.  3-5. 

THE  views  presented  in  the  preceding  Discourse  on  the 
social  and  moral  position  of  women  lead  on  to  some  fur 
ther  contemplation  of  her  character  as  matured  and  en 
riched  by  Christ.  My  doctrine  will  be  that  woman  can 
realize  her  proper  ministry  only  as  she  is  inspired  by 
Christian  faith,  and  that  she  can  find  the  solace  so  sorely 
needed  by  her  discipline  only  as  she  enthrones  the  relig 
ion  of  the  Son  of  Mary  as  the  supreme  principle  of  her 
life. 

Let  our  thoughts  be  guided  by  this  twofold  proposi 
tion : —  1.  For  the  unfolding  of  woman's  character,  and 
the  balancing  of  her  spirit,  Christianity  supplies  the  only 
sufficient  impulse  and  guide.  2.  Christianity  exhibits  no 
more  perfect  illustration  or  achievement  than  in  the  com 
pleted  proportions  of  her  spiritual  life.  Let  us  follow 


THE    CHRISTIAN    WOMAN.  165 

her  through  the  three  principal  stages  in  the  solemn  ca 
reer  of  her  womanhood,  to  see  how  helpless  she  is  in 
every  one,  except  she  leans  on  Jesus,  the  friend  of  Mary 
and  Martha. 

The  first  epoch  of  trial  in  woman's  life  begins  when 
the  period  of  education  ceases.  It  encompasses  a  re 
served,  but  always  an  intense,  and  sometimes  a  tragic 
experience.  Hitherto,  except  in  cases  of  rare  misfortune 
and  bleak  exposure,  her  home,  parents,  and  that  shield 
of  childhood's  innocence  which  no  serpent  and  no  demon 
dare  assail,  have  sheltered  her.  Now  she  steps  forth,  if 
not  into  the  fierceness  of  public  temptation,  at  least  into 
the  path  of.  solitary  and  secret  struggles,  —  bitternesses 
of  spirit  which  pride  and  modesty  both  press  back  un 
spoken  into  the  enduring  but  inexperienced  heart. 

I  envy  not  that  man's  sensibility,  nor  do  I  credit  his 
manliness,  who  treats  these  things  as  only  the  flimsy  sen 
timentalities  of  a  girlish  fancy.  I  think  there  are  gath 
ered  into  those  few  years  that  intervene  between  the 
busy  hours  of  the  school-room  and  the  sober  cares  of  the 
family  terrible  conflicts  of  the  moral  nature,  questions 
of  duty,  tossings  of  conscience,  weariness  of  patience, 
quenchings  of  the  spirit,  buffetings  and  resurrections  of 
holy  aspiration,  of  a  meaning  deep  and  solemn  enough 
to  impress  any  earnest  mind. 

It  is  a  period  of  dependence,  in  the  first  place,  with 
most  women ;  and  who  does  not  know  that  trials  lie  hid 
in  that  word  "dependence"?  —  dependence  on  parents, 
to  be  sure,  often,  not  always,  —  but  still  not  the  less  irk 
some  for  that,  if  the  woman,  with  a  consciousness  of 
strength,  sees  the  parent  worn  and  anxious  with  excess 
of  labor ;  or  if,  with  willingness  for  effort  which  her  posi 
tion  or  social  prejudice  forbids,  she  sees  her  every  want 


166  THE    CHRISTIAN   WOMAN. 

met  only  by  reluctant  and  grudged  supplies.  It  is  a  pe 
riod  of  uncertainty ;  for  it  looks  straight  out  upon  all 
those  contingencies  that  determine  her  future  lot,  —  a 
lot  for  which  she  is  not  so  much  to  lead  or  choose  as  to 
wait  and  weigh  the  perils  of  being  chosen,  or  to  learn  the 
calm  fortitude  that  conquers  neglect  with  dignity.  It  is 
a  period  of  highly-wrought  sensibility.  The  emotions 
have  swelled,  from  the  babbling  brook  that  kept  its  quiet 
way  within  the  banks  of  youth,  into  the  rushing  river  of 
impetuous  passion.  Opening  vistas  of  gayety  bewilder 
the  eye.  Overhanging  shadows  of  disappointment  alarm 
the  soul.  Sanguine  expectations  welcoming  joy,  and 
apprehensive  instincts  portending  danger,  divide  the  day 
and  brood  over  the  night.  It  is  a  period  of  comparative 
irresponsibleness ;  and  who  shall  say  that  irresponsible- 
ness  is  a  blessing,  when  we  know  so  well  how  occupa 
tion  dispels  morbid  introspections,  and  how  daily  strain 
upon  the  muscles  fortifies  timid  and  tremulous  nerves  ? 

I  cannot  agree  with  those  superficial  observers  who 
see  in  the  life  of  early  womanhood  no  more  than  a  care 
less  pastime,  where  nothing  is  so  easy  as  to  be  happy,  or 
read  in  its  noiseless  exterior  an  infallible  sign  of  perfect 
peace  within.  Oh !  peace  within !  It  is  not  there ;  but 
whence  is  it  to  come  ?  Must  it  be  a  stranger  for  ever  to 
that  agitated  heart  ?  Must  woman  endure  and  strive 
and  suffer,  treading  the  wine-press  of  that  comfortless 
solicitude,  or  that  weary  and  discontented  round  of  un 
meaning  trifles  which  is  a  still  heavier  curse,  alone  ? 
Must  she  walk  that  perilous  way,  withstanding  flattery, 
bearing  neglect,  curbing  complaint,  bracing  the  nerves, 
masking  tempests  of  feeling  under  an  unchanged  face, 
sifting  sincerity  from  falsehood  in  the  speech  of  men,  and 
mastering  gloomy  meditations  by  voluntary  activities, 


THE    CHRISTIAN   WOMAN.  167 

alone  ?  Alone  it  must  be  in  many  cases,  as  respects  the 
fulness  of  any  mortal  sympathy ;  but  not  so  alone,  if  she 
will  have  faith,  as  to  exclude  a  companionship  mightier 
and  more  blessed  than  the  mortal.  For  such  as  she  is, 
Christ  died ;  for  such  as  she  is,  the  Mediator  lives ;  for 
just  that  perplexed  spirit  Jesus  says,  "  Come  unto  me, 
thou  weary  and  heavy-laden!  Let  not  your  heart  be 
troubled.  This  way,  daughter !  Be  of  good  comfort." 
For  many  a  one  who  has  not  sinned  as  the  weeping 
Mary  sinned,  but  has  sinned  with  the  secret  sin  of  the 
thoughts,  and  has  sorrowed  penitentially,  or  has  feared 
lest  sin  should  overtake  her  suddenly,  and  so  has  been 
ready  to  wash  her  Master's  feet  with  tears,  he  is  saying 
still,  "  Thy  faith  hath  saved  thee :  go  in  peace." 

It  is  not  true,  I  think,  of  any  other  condition  of  human 
discipline,  more  than  of  this  one,  that  nothing  short  o"f  a 
personal  acquaintance  with  Christian  trust  can  satisfy  its 
wants.  Two  other  and  different  resources,  indeed,  the 
young  woman  has ;  and  we  need  not  wander  far  to 
search  for  proofs  how  often  she  tries  their  value.  They 
are  her  womanly  pride,  and  the  excitements  of  society. 
The  one  ivill  help  her,  so  far  as  to  a  stubborn  silence,  a 
stoic  strength,  such  as  lurks  often  in  the  fragile  feminine 
frame,  which  hides  pain,  but  does  not  smother  it,  and  dis 
guises  trouble  with  levity,  but  never  consoles  it.  The 
other  —  social  excitement  —  defers  the  hour  of  grief,  but, 
while  it  puts  it  off,  is  gathering  up  additional  material  to 
intensify  its  visitation  when  it  returns.  At  last,  it  dissi 
pates  self-respect,  turns  simplicity  into  affectation,  and 
benumbs  the  moral  sense.  Whether  these  are  satisfying 
comforters,  is  a  question  not  for  argument,  but  for  testi 
mony  alone.  Summon  your  evidence ;  for  you  know 
where  it  is  to  be  found.  Perhaps  you  are  witnesses 


168  THE    CHRISTIAN    WOMAN. 

yourselves,  and  need  only  to  call  Memory  to  the  stand, 
before  the  examinations  of  Conscience. 

What  will  Christianity  do  ?  It  concentrates  the  aim 
less  and  restless  purposes  of  woman  on  the  one  grand 
object  of  a  personal  acceptance  with  God.  It  takes  off 
the  load,  which  no  human  spirit  can  bear  and  be  cheer 
ful,  by  its  promise  of  forgiveness  for  what  is  lacking,  and 
by  its  encouraging  assurance,  that,  when  once  the  life  is 
consecrated  to  God,  no  single  act  or  thought  of  good  can 
fail  of  fruit  in  the  spiritual  harvests  of  eternity.  It  offers 
her  what  the  mind  of  youth  more  than  anything  else 
craves,  —  a  friendship  at  once  unchangeable  and  trust 
worthy  as  the  heavens ;  and  so  it  opens  the  gates  of  the 
city  of  God  straight  into  her  closet  of  prayer,  and,  when 
the  world  looks  most  inhospitable,  shows  her  friendly  an 
gels  ascending  with  her  supplications,  and  descending 
with  counsel  and  compassion,  between  her  Bethel  and 
her  Father.  It  gives  her  that  inward  gift  which  none 
can  see  but  by  possessing  it,  and  which  had  its  best  de 
scription  when  it  was  said  of  it,  by  Him  who  knew  its 
power,  that  it  "  passeth  all  understanding."  More  than 
this  Christianity  does  for  her.  It  provides  for  that  sad 
deficiency  in  so  many  women's  lives,  — the  want  of  some 
specific  aim  for  undirected  energies.  No  poet  nor  trage 
dian' nor  artist  has  yet  depicted  the  misery  that  comes  of 
the  cruel  divorce  between  the  active  spirit  of  many  a  wo 
man  and  its  appropriate  work.  Religion  leads  her  to  her 
task,  —  the  white  field  that  her  soft  but  resolute  hand  can 
reap.  It  not  only  quickens  her  to  a  new  fidelity,  in  all 
the  homely  ministrations  of  the  house  where  she  lives, 
towards  brothers  and  sisters,  parents  and  servants ;  it 
opens  to  her  the  lowly  door  of  poverty ;  it  draws  her,  by 
cords  stronger  than  steel,  to  the  unclad  orphan,  and  the 


THE    CHRISTIAN    WOMAN.  169 

bedside  of  sick  wretchedness  ;  it  stimulates  her  inven 
tion,  it  exhausts  her  economy,  it  plies  her  fingers,  it  in 
spires  her  intercessions,  for  the  instruction  of  poor  chil 
dren's  ignorance,  and  the  redemption  of  their  despair. 
By  a  beautiful  feature  in  the  moral  economy  of  the 
Church,  no  less  than  of  nature,  the  mercies  of  life  are 
assigned  pre-eminently  to  female  enterprise ;  and,  if 
Protestantism  does  not  deserve  to  be  converted  back  to 
Rome,  the  pity  of  her  daughters  will  outwatch  and  out- 
labor  the  splendid  benefactions  of  the  Sisters  of  Char- 
ity. 

Another  task  still  Christianity  solemnly  charges  upon 
woman  in  her  youth.  It  bids  her  by  every  separate  obli 
gation  of  her  discipleship,  be  true  to  immaculate  virtue, 
in  her  intercourse  with  companions,  and  in  the  bestow- 
ment  of  her  favor.  It  not  only  surrounds  her  own  person 
with  the  "  sun-clad  armor "  of  chastity  and  temperance 
and  truth,  but  it  commands  her  to  exact  the  decencies  of 
morality  from  every  acquaintance,  of  either  sex,  that  she 
honors  with  her  intimacy. 

Would  to  God  that  some  angel  from  his  own  right 
hand  would  reveal  to  her  the  power  she  controls  for  the 
redemption  of  those  horrible  vices  that  defile  and  intoxi 
cate  the  land !  for  then  she  might  take  up  her  benignant 
ministry  as  an  apostle  of  holiness,  persuading  the  tempted 
by  her  unbending  principle,  as  well  as  bearing  her  own 
profession  incorruptibly.  Not  that  I  would  have  young 
women  trespass  over  the  line  of  a  most  delicate  propriety, 
in  the  hope  of  winning  young  men  from  dissipation  by 
compromise  or  complaisance ;  for  I  have  had  proofs  too 
painful  how  the  kindness  of  that  generous  benevolence 
may  be  outwitted  and  betrayed  by  the  cowardly  cunning 
of  the  voluptuary.  But  woman  should  awe  vice  every- 

15 


170  THE    CHRISTIAN    WOMAN. 

where  by  the  sternness  of  her  disapproval,  and  the  un- 
mistakableness  of  her  language. 

Learn,  women,  as  the  Master  beseeches  you,  that  a  di 
vine  trust  is  committed  to  you,  in  your  example  and  your 
very  smiles,  for  which  God  will  call  you  into  judgment. 
Know,  as  I  know,  that  a  trifling  remark,  falling  from  wo 
man's  thoughtless  tongue  in  the  whirl  of  some  animating 
assembly,  —  extending  her  allowance  to  excess,  treating 
sensuality  as  a  venial  error,  or  ridiculing  strict  virtue  as  a 
puritanical  scruple,  —  has  been  the  feather's  weight  that 
turned  the  scale  of  a  man's  wavering  character  to  infamy. 
Know,  as  I  know,  that  your  sober  rebuke  may  carry  the 
power  of  many  sermons  to  the  heart,  and  rescue  a  soul 
half  lost,  making  you  ministers  of  the  cross.  There  is  a 
record  in  the  Hebrew  history  of  a  young  maiden  taken 
captive  from  the  land  of  Israel,  and  made  a  servant  in  the 
house  of  Naaman,  the  illustrious  captain  of  the  king's 
host.  The  great  man  was  smitten  with  leprosy,  and 
could  get  no  cure.  The  girl  had  courage  to  stand  up 
against  all  the  ridicule  and  obloquy  of  her  despised  relig 
ion.  She  dared  to  be  true  to  the  God  of  her  fathers,  and 
to  the  prophets  she  had  been  taught  from  infancy  to  re 
vere.  She  persisted  in  saying,  "  Would  God  my  master 
were  with  the  prophet  that  is  in  Samaria !  for  he  would 
recover  him  of  his  leprosy."  At  last,  her  faith  conquered 
the  Syrian's  haughty  prejudice ;  and  he  went  down  to 
Elisha,  washed  in  the  Jordan,  and  was  clean.  There  are 
leprosies  on  men's  souls ;  and  by  the  mouth  of  other 
maids  than  the  Jewish  captive,  if  they  are  as  brave  and 
dutiful  to  God  as  she,  the  simple  word  may  be  uttered 
that  heals  them. 

It  is  time  to  advance  to  a  later  stage  of  the  Christian 
woman's  experience.     If  her  moral  power  is  so  decisive 


THE    CHRISTIAN    WOMAN.  171 

at  the  time  when  life  has  devolved  upon  her  the  fewest 
responsibilities,  and  neither  age  nor  station  has  vested  in 
her  any  adventitious  authority,  that  even  then  she  stands 
in  her  private  place  either  as  a  preacher  of  righteousness 
or  an  emissary  of  the  Tempter,  it  is  only  more  command 
ing  yet  when  she  has  taken  up  the  complicated  relations 
of  marriage,  and  assumed  the  spiritual  governance  of  that 
lesser  church,  that  sacred  seminary,  —  the  family.  At 
the  height  of  her  influence,  both  domestic  and  social,  she 
then  acts  at  once  through  the  living  medium  of  an  indi 
vidual  example,  and  through  the  manifold  ties  of  her  po 
sition,  for  the  blessing,  or  the  fatal  misleading,  of  many. 
I  say  again,  nothing  but  the  piety  of  the  New  Testament 
can  suffice  for  her  high  calling. 

The  chief  enemies  to  her  Christian  simplicity  —  and 
thus  to  the  symmetry  of  her  own  character,  as  well  as  the 
integrity  of  her  influence  —  are  social  ambition,  an  appe 
tite  for  admiration,  the  passion  for  indiscriminate  excite 
ment,  and,  in  other  constitutions,  a  dull  servitude  to  the 
routine  of  mechanical  tasks. 

1.  By  social  ambition,  I  mean  the  vulgar  appetite  for 
those  external  distinctions,  which  are  even  more  danger 
ous  to  woman  than  to  man,  because  of  the  inherent,  nat 
ural  aristocracy  of  her  nature.  A  wife  or  mother,  who 
suffers  it  to  be  her  supreme  exertion  to  rise  in  the  public 
consideration,  has  already  parted  with  that  artless  sincer 
ity  which  is  the  chief  grace  of  her  womanhood.  It  is  in 
evitable,  then,  that  she  should  be  always  bringing  the 
most  tender  sanctities  of  life  into  market,  —  reducing  the 
charm  of  honest  courtesy  into  a  financial  convenience, 
and  making  a  brokerage  of  hospitalities.  Mechanics  and 
merchants,  whom  thrift  would  have  elevated  into  legiti 
mate  prosperity  at  last,  are  led  into  ruinous  extravagance 


172  THE    CHRISTIAN    WOMAN. 

by  this  poor  slavery  to  names,  appearances,  and  outsides. 
Not  culture,  nor  the  real  mental  nor  moral  advantage  of 
better  associates,  not  solid  gain  of  mind  or  heart,  but  a 
nominal  superiority,  pride  of  place,  successful  competition 
with  neighbors,  —  these  are  the  rank  shoots  of  social  am 
bition.  Growing  refinements  and  elegances  are  honors, 
so  far  as  they  are  modest  badges  of  growing  diligence. 
Any  other  "  getting  up  in  the  world "  is  not  getting 
nearer  to  heaven.  Low  tricks  and  transparent  artifices 
are  Ambition's  awkward  tools.  Falsehood  is  too  often 
its  ally ;  and  a  spirit  alien  from  that  of  the  Gospel  is  its 
instigation. 

2.  Appetite  for  admiration.  Could  some  searching 
census  register  the  number  of  those  who  are  kept  aloof 
from  the  love  of  God  by  this  foolish  vanity  alone,  should 
we  dare  to  look  into  the  swelling  catalogue  ?  Could 
some  magic  reflection  be  added  to  mirrors,  so  that,  while 
they  show  back  the  adjustment  of  garments,  they  should 
also  reveal  the  emptiness  of  the  soul,  what  dismal  disclos 
ures  would  startle  the  sleeping  conscience !  How  slow 
pride  is  to  learn  that  every  accumulation  of  useless  finery 
upon  the  person  bears  an  exact  proportion  to  the  poverty 
of  character  beneath  it !  When  the  true  Christian  stand 
ard  of  dress  and  furnishing  shah1  be  confessed,  these 
wasteful  outlays  on  gaudy  colors  and  superfluous  orna 
ments  will  be  blushed  for  as  indecencies.  God  in  his 
justice  cannot  be  satisfied  while  the  grand  charities  and 
philanthropies  of  his  kingdom  languish,  and  the  treas 
uries  of  ostentation  are  so  full.  Honesty  stands  aghast, 
economy  is  laughed  to  scorn,  Christian  humility  is  in 
sulted,  the  Gospel  is  denied,  by  dresses  that  almost  every 
Christian  assembly  tolerates.  The  reformation  of  these 
abuses  belongs  peculiarly  to  woman,  "whose  adorning, 


THE    CHRISTIAN    WOMAN.  173 

let  it  not  be  that  outward  adorning  of  plaiting  the  hair, 
and  of  wearing  of  gold,  or  of  putting  on  of  apparel ;  but 
let  it  be  the  hidden  nature  of  the  heart,  in  that  which  is 
not  corruptible,  even  the  ornament  of  a  meek  and  quiet 
spirit,  which  is  in  the  sight  of  God  of  great  price.  For 
after  this  manner,  in  the  old  time,  the  holy  women,  who 
trusted  in  God,  adorned  themselves." 

3.  Passion  for  indiscriminate  excitement.     What  hold 
has  religion  taken  of  that  mind  which  never  rests  in  its 
insatiable  craving  for  some  public  spectacle,  —  is  never 
satisfied  except  when  it  is  preparing  for  some  scene  of 
social    display,  or  exulting  over  its    conquests?      What 
place  in  that  distracted  and  disordered  heart  for  Religion 
to  breathe  the  first  whisper  of  her  tranquil  benediction  ? 
what  place  for  the  patient  exercises  of  self-examination, 
for  communion  with  God,  for  the  prayer  that  asks  "  the 
calm  retreat,  the  silent  shade  "  ?     There  is  no  noble  type 
of  womanhood  that  does  not  wear  serenity  upon  its  fore 
head. 

4.  On  the  other  hand,  in  constitutions  of  an  opposite 
inclination,  female  life  is  apt  to  degenerate,  if  not  inspired 
by  religion,  into  a  tame  routine  of  narrow  domestic  cares, 
dwarfing  the  spirit  to  its  own  contracted  limitations.     The 
very  nature  of  woman  requires  animation  for  its  health. 
Religion,  with  its  infinite  mysteries,  its  deep  and  stirring 
experience,  its  boundless  duties,  offers  that  needed  stim 
ulus, —  offers  it  to  the  obscurest  and  the  lowliest.     At 
her  call,  the  whole  army  of  martyrs,  and  the  glorious  com 
pany  of  Apostles,  pass  by.     The  veil  is  lifted  from  Judaea, 
peopled  with  miracles.     The  Prophets  repeat  for  her  their 
majestic  visions,  and  David  chants  to  her  his  undying 
songs.     Heaven  opens  the  leaves  of  its  shining  portals, 
the  angels  are  singing  over  Bethlehem,  the  Magi  kneel 

15* 


174  THE    CHRISTIAN    WOMAN. 

with  Mary,  and  our  Lord  is  seen  blessing  the  women  that 
hide  their  eyes  at  Calvary.  These  are  the  scenes,  and 
these  the  voices,  that  animate  the  Christian  woman's 
meditation ;  and,  when  she  passes  from  them  into  the 
gayeties  of  the  world,  it  is  like  coming  down  from  the 
high  mountains  of  transfiguration,  and  from  among  the 
lamps  of  heaven,  into  the  lurid  glare  of  some  playhouse 
pit.  Imaginative,  dreaming,  musing,  mystical  woman ! 
Christianity,  after  all,  is  thy  most  satisfying  friend. 

The  Christian  wife  and  mother  is  a  Christian  in  the 
spirit  by  which  she  orders  her  household  and  nurtures  her 
offspring.  Too  many  mothers  make  their  first  request 
for  their  sons  that  of  the  mother  of  Zebedee's  children,  — 
that  they  may  sit  on  thrones  of  wealth  and  power. 
What  wonder  if  those  sons  are  worldlings,  are  hypocrites, 
are  criminals  ?  Too  many  train  up  their  daughters  with 
no  loftier  aim  than  to  be  beautiful  brides,  or  the  centres  of 
meretricious  observation  at  summer  watering-places,  or 
to  value  a  husband  by  his  income,  or  not  to  be  over-nice 
in  their  judgment  of  men,  because  they  are  not  expected 
to  be  virtuous  like  women.  Infamous  effrontery  towards 
God !  And  thus  are  reared,  generation  by  generation, 
those  successive  ranks  of  artificial  and  perverted  things 
called  "  women  of  the  world,"  —  women  that  might 
figure  without  disgrace  at  the  court  of  a  profligate  Louis 
or  a  shameless  Charles,  where  disgrace  is  annihilated  by 
making  corruption  the  fashion  ;  women  that  are  fit  for 
no  other  career  than  in  the  unprincipled  saloons  of  the 
Paris  of  the  last  century ;  women  who  have  passed  that 
pagan  sentiment  into  a  Christian  adoption,  that  "  mothers 
are  sad  when  daughters  are  born." 

Not  such  —  O  very  far  from  such  as  she !  —  is  the 
mother  that  has  sat,  with  the  sisters  of  Bethany,  at  the 


THE    CHRISTIAN    WOMAN.  175 

feet  of  Jesus ;  that  has  entered  into  devout  communion 
with  the  Redeemer  in  his  Church  ;  that  has  made  her 
quiet  dwelling  fragrant  with  the  odors  of  the  prayers  of 
saints.  She  stands  in  her  household,  the  priestess  of  an 
immortal  faith,  the  reconciler  of  human  love  with  the 
divine  ;  she  moves  among  sons  and  daughters,  folding 
the  hands  of  infancy  in  prayer,  joining  the  hands  of  all  in 
fellowship,  opening  them  in  charity,  and  pointing  with 
her  own  to  heaven. 

"  She  can  so  impress 
With  quietness  and  beauty,  and  so  feed 
With  lofty  thoughts,  that  neither  evil  tongues, 
Rash  judgments,  nor  the  sneers  of  selfish  men, 
Nor  greetings  where  no  kindness  is,  nor  all 
The  dreary  intercourse  of  daily  life, 
Shall  e'er  prevail  against  us,  or  disturb 
Our  cheerful  faith,  that  all  which  we  behold 
Is  full  of  blessings." 

And  thus  I  have  come,  finally,  to  what  may  be  briefly 
established,  —  that  Christianity  exhibits  no  more  perfect 
achievement  than  in  the  completed  character  of  a  spirit 
ual  womanhood  ;  for,  passing  on  one  stage  later  yet,  we 
find  the  united  result  of  a  life's  discipline  and  a  heavenly 
faith  in  the  Christian  woman's  old  age.  Providence  has 
not  withheld  that  confirmation  of  the  power  and  beauty 
of  religion  from  our  eyes.  We  feel  new  confidence  in 
truth,  new  love  for  goodness,  new  zeal  for  duty,  new 
trust  in  God,  new  gratitude  to  Christ,  when  we  look  on 
her  ripened  holiness  ;  and,  as  her  strength  faints  before 
the  power  of  decay,  behold  the  crown  of  immortality 
descending  almost  visibly  upon  her  head  !  The  recollec 
tion  of  her  former  activities  blends  with  the  hallowed 
hope  of  her  renewed  energies  in  the  immaterial  body, 
with  which  she  shall  be  clothed  upon  from  heaven,  The 


176  THE    CHRISTIAN    WOMAN. 

thanksgivings  of  the  poor  that  she  has  blessed,  the  tears 
of  orphans  that  she  has  led,  the  tributes  of  the  sick  that 
she  has  visited,  the  perfume  of  the  charities  she  has  scat 
tered,  throng  up  to  make  the  fading  light  of  her  evening 
tranquil.  She  is  a  mother  to  her  children  after  they 
cease  to  be  children  ;  she  is  a  matron  in  the  Church,  be 
cause  the  Church  has  been  strengthened  by  her  blameless 
walk.  Every  good  cause  of  humanity  is  encouraged  by 
her  prayers,  sent  up  from  a  shaded  chamber,  because 
those  prayers  have  had  no  contradiction  in  her  deeds. 
The  heart  of  her  husband  trusts  in  her.  Her  children 
rise  up  every  morning  to  call  her  blessed.  In  her  tongue 
is  the  law  of  kindness.  Strength  and  honor  are  her 
clothing.  Like  the  holy  women  of  old  time,  her  orna 
ment  is  a  meek  and  quiet  spirit.  And  she  shall  rejoice 
with  what  exceeding  joy,  when  heart  and  tongue  fail, 
at  the  right  hand  of  God  ! 

I  cannot  so  well  finish  this  account  of  a  Christian 
woman  as  by  repeating  the  following  touching,  simple, 
sorrowful  memorial  of  his  wife,  written  by  one  of  the 
statesmen  of  England  —  Sir  James  Mackintosh  —  in  a 
private  letter  to  a  friend.  "  She  was  a  woman,"  he 
writes,  "  who,  by  the  tender  management  of  my  weak 
nesses,  gradually  corrected  the  most  pernicious  of  them. 
She  became  prudent  from  affection  ;  and,  though  of  the 
most  generous  nature,  she  was  taught  frugality  and 
economy  by  her  love  for  me.  During  the  most  critical 
period  of  my  life,  she  preserved  order  in  my  affairs,  from 
the  care  of  which  she  relieved  me.  She  gently  reclaimed 
me  from  dissipation,  she  propped  my  weak  and  irresolute 
nature,  she  urged  my  indolence  to  all  the  exertions  that 
have  been  useful  or  creditable  to  me,  and  she  was  per 
petually  at  hand  to  admonish  my  heedlessness  and  im- 


THE    CHRISTIAN    WOMAN.  177 

providence.  To  her  I  owe  whatever  I  am, — to  her 
whatever  I  shall  be.  In  her  solicitude  for  my  interest, 
she  never  for'  a  moment  forgot  my  character.  Her  feel 
ings  were  warm  and  impetuous  ;  but  she  was  placable, 
tender,  and  constant.  Such  was  she  whom  I  have  lost ; 
and  I  have  lost  her  when  a  knowledge  of  her  worth  had 
refined  my  youthful  love  into  friendship,  before  age  had 
deprived  it  of  much  of  its  original  ardor.  I  seek  relief, 
and  I  find  it,  in  the  consolatory  opinion,  that  a  benevo 
lent  Wisdom  inflicts  the  chastisement,  as  well  as  bestows 
the  enjoyment,  of  human  life  ;  that  superintending  Good 
ness  will  one  day  enliven  the  darkness  which  surrounds 
our  nature  and  hangs  over  our  prospects ;  that  this 
dreary  and  wretched  life  is  not  the  whole  of  man  ;  that 
a  being  capable  of  such  proficiency  in  science  and  virtue 
is  not  like  the  beasts  that  perish  ;  that  there  is  a  dwell 
ing-place  prepared  for  the  spirits  of  the  just ;  that  the 
ways  of  God  will  yet  be  vindicated  to  man." 


SERMON     XIII 

THE  LAW  OF  THE   HOUSE. 


THUS   SAITH   THE   LORD,    SET   THINE   HOUSE  IN  ORDER;   FOR  THOU 
SHALT   DIE,   AND   NOT    LIVE.  —  Isa.  XXXviii.   1. 


As  Religion  asks  only  the  simplest  array  of  circum 
stance  to  demonstrate  her  sublimest  principles ;  only 
the  little  sphere  of  an  obscure  fortune  to  round  out  all 
her  majestic  orbit  of  duty  ;  only  the  common  people  as 
spectators,  to  unroll  the  splendid  constellation  of  her 
promises  ;  and  only  the  humblest  foothold  in  the  heart,  to 
bear  all  that  heart's  affections  with  her  into  the  highest 
heaven,  —  so  she  requires  only  the  plainest  language  to 
declare  her  most  searching  doctrines.* 

The  ordinary  meaning  of  the  word  Economy,  which 
makes  it  apply  to  mere  prudence  in  pecuniary  expendi 
ture,  or  a  judicious  handling  of  the  financial  resources  of 
living,  is  only  the  secondary,  not  the  original,  import  of 
the  term,  as  appears  by  a  reference  to  its  Greek  deriva 
tion.  Restore  its  primary  signification,  and  it  instantly 
stretches  out  to  embrace  far  more  than  worldly  thrift, 
more  than  honesty,  more  than  philosophy.  It  gathers 
up  and  condenses  the  whole  religious  obligation  and 
responsibility  of  one  great  department  of  our  life.  We 
may  preach  the  whole  Gospel  of  Christ,  to  the  household, 


THE    LAW    OF    THE    HOUSE.  179 

through  the  suggestions  of  that  simple  word  Economy. 
For  it  signifies,  literally,  the  Law  of  the  House ;  the 
ordering  of  man's  whole  domestic  existence ;  the  inau 
guration  of  the  Divine  Will  over  his  dwelling.  To  the 
soul  surrounded  by  its  natural,  human  relationships,  the 
command  out  of  the  mouth  of  God  is,  "  Set  thy  house 
in  order  "  :  obey  this  spiritual  economy. 

The  subject  I  set  before  you  is  The  Law  of  the  House. 
And  the  discourse  will  proceed  through  these  three  posi 
tions: —  1.  That  the  house  is  a  divine  institution;  2.  That 
every  family  has  its  law  of  family  life,  —  its  ruling  prin 
ciple  or  passion  ;  3.  That  only  one  law,  and  that  promul 
gated  in  Christ,  can  comprehend,  meet,  and  satisfy  the 
household,  in  a  spiritual  economy. 

Out  of  the  Romish  Church,  which  claims  special  rev 
elations  of  divine  authority  for  every  ordinance  it  en 
joins,  we  have  scarcely  any  terms  to  define  exactly  what 
an  ordinance  is.  The  Protestant  identifies  a  religious 
ordinance  by  finding,  upon  its  origin,  its  preservation, 
and  its  uses  in  the  world,  wonderful  marks  of  a  heavenly 
design. 

I.  Judged  by  these  rules,  the  Family  is  an  ordinance 
of  God.  It  draws  its  credentials  from  the  parental  ap 
pointment  in  Eden.  Its  solemn  ceremony  of  installa 
tion  was  the  crowning  act  of  creation.  No  other  institu 
tion,  whether  surviving  now  or  perished  in  the  past,  can 
show  such  an  antiquity.  The  records  of  it  are  the  first 
syllables  of  written  history,  and  the  faintest  stammerings 
of  tradition.  It  runs  up,  beyond  Assyrian  or  Chaldean 
empires,  and  the  founding  of  Palmyra,  to  the  tents  on 
the  plains  of  Shinar.  The  first  breathing  of  its  spirit 
was  the  simplicity  of  patriarchs.  It  began  while  the 
earliest  beams  of  the  world's  twilight  were  shooting  up 


180  THE    LAW    OF    THE    HOUSE. 

into  a  sky  whose  stars  no  tongue  had  yet  called  by  their 
names,  —  over  an  unpeopled  world.  Was  not  its  origin, 
then,  divine  ? 

And  is  not  the  preservation  of  the  family  as  clearly 
stamped  with  God's  purpose  as  its  origin  ?  How  mar 
vellously  that  institution  of  the  House  survives  revolu 
tions!  How  tenaciously,  everywhere,  it  clings  in  the 
web  of  human  events !  How  obstinately,  under  all 
conditions,  it  justifies  its  right  to  be !  You  might  as 
soon  find  by  chemical  analysis,  and  pluck  out  with  your 
finger,  the  living  principle  of  a  growing  cedar,  as  eradi 
cate  from  society  the  indestructible  tendency  it  has  to 
throw  itself  out  into  families.  Subdue  that  tendency  in 
one  place,  and  it  will  break  out  in  another.  An  empire 
may  rot,  a  nation  may  be  wasted,  a  city  may  be  sacked ; 
but,  as  if  some  immortal  element  quickened  it,  this  hal 
lowed  institution  of  the  household  lives  on  ;  refuses  to 
be  destroyed.  Surely  there  have  been  changes  enough 
on  this  convulsed,  decaying,  and  ensanguined  earth,  to 
shake  out  of  its  place  any  form  of  life  God  does  not 
mean  shall  stand.  But  the  house  is  just  as  sure,  after 
a  Macedonian  or  a  Mexican  dynasty  has  fallen,  as  before. 
That  little  charmed  circle  of  parents  and  children  stands 
against  all  the  destructions  of  time,  more  secure  than 
any  army  clad  in  steel.  You  may  scatter  mankind  like 
the  Hebrew  tribes ;  but  straightway  they  will  group 
themselves,  and  be  found  in  families.  You  may  bury 
Nineveh,  or  strangle  Herculaneum,  or  starve  Babylon, 
or  burn  Warsaw ;  but  the  family  you  cannot  dispossess, 
nor  batter  down,  nor  drown  with  water,  nor  bum  with 
fire.  The  advancing  growths  of  civilization  only  vary 
its  form  ;  they  do  not  affect  its  substance.  The  tents  of 
shepherds  vanish ;  but  more  stable  dwellings  take  their 


THE    LAW    OF    THE    HOUSE.  181 

places.  The  bamboo  hut  of  the  Indian,  and  the  Eu 
ropean  mansion,  each  holds  its  family.  Agricultural 
communities  build  their  separate  houses  of  wood,  and 
commercial  in  blocks  of  wood  or  stone,  but  not  disper 
sion  nor  agglomeration  can  blur  over  the  lines  that  di 
vide  the  invisible  or  spiritual  house  from  its  neighbor. 
Is  not  its  preservation,  then,  divine  ? 

Its  uses,  —  with  equal  distinctness,  with  what  bright 
tokens,  with  what  emphatic  demonstrations,  do  they 
speak  of  the  home  as  God's  appointment!  Where 
lie  the  clearest  proofs  of  a  heavenly  watchfulness  over 
our  heads,  if  not  in  the  shelters  where  we  lay  those  heads 
at  night  ?  Consider  what  securities  home  affections  bind 
about  tempted  virtue  ;  how  the  man  of  business  carries 
a  zone  of  moral  purity  woven  about  him  by  the  caresses 
of  children,  from  his  house  to  the  market-place  ;  how  the 
false  or  fraudulent  purpose,  half  conceived  in  the  count 
ing-room,  is  rebuked  and  put  to  shame  by  the  inno 
cence  that  gazes  into  his  eyes  and  clings  about  his  neck 
when  he  goes  home  and  shuts  the  door  on  the  world  at 
night.  Consider  what  a  hinderance  household  love  inter 
poses,  to  stay  the  straying  feet  of  dissipation  ;  what  a 
triple  shield  it  holds  up  against  the  sins  of  prodigality, 
indulgence,  or  dishonor!  Consider  that,  with  most  of 
us,  whatever  impulses  of  generosity  visit  the  soul,  what 
ever  prayers  we  breathe,  whatever  holy  vows  of  religious 
consecration  we  pledge,  whatever  aspiring  resolves  we 
form,  are  apt  to  spring  up  within  the  sacred  enclosures 
of  the  house !  Consider  how  the  mere  memory  of  that 
spot,  with  all  its  precious  endearments,  goes  forth  with 
the  traveller,  sails  with  the  sailor,  keeps  vigils  over  the 
exposed  heart  among  the  perils  of  the  foreign  city, 
sweetens  the  feverish  dreams  and  softens  the  pain  of  the 

16 


182  THE    LAW    OF    THE    HOUSE. 

sufferer  in  the  sickly  climate,  and,  by  calling  his  love 
homeward,  calls  his  faith  to  Heaven !  Consider  that  the 
discipline  of  disease,  the  purification  of  bereavement,  the 
tears  of  mourners,  are  all  elements  in  the  sanctity  of 
home  ;  that  closets  of  devotion  are  parts  of  the  architec 
ture  of  the  house  ;  that  Bibles  are  opened  on  its  tables  ; 
that  the  eyes  of  new-born  children  open,  and  their  first 
breaths  are  drawn,  in  its  chambers ;  and  that  the  dead 
body  is  borne  out  of  its  doors  ;  —  how  fast  do  the  gather 
ing  proofs  accumulate,  that  the  human  dwelling  is  a 
sanctuary  of  the  Most  High ! 

Whoever  builds  its  walls,  God  hallows  them  for  his 
temple.  That  outward  house  is  but  the  visible  pattern 
of  the  interior  edifice ;  and  of  that  spiritual  structure 
God  has  laid  the  foundation,  and  sprung  the  arches,  and 
commanded  the  economy.  The  family  is  surely  his 
ordinance. 

Who  doubts  it  ?  Do  you  doubt  it,  because  the  daily 
on-going  of  domestic  life  is  so  often  commonplace,  so 
often  vulgar,  so  often  selfish,  and  tedious,  and  ill-tem 
pered,  and  vicious  ?  or  because  some  disgusting  disclos 
ure  of  conjugal  faithlessness,  shamelessly  reported  abroad 
from  the  proper  privacy  of  courts  of  justice,  sickens  all 
honest  sensibilities,  and  makes  us  half  ashamed  that  we 
are  men  and  women  ourselves  ? 

I  reply,  that,  in  the  analogies  of  its  constitution,  we 
may  regard  every  family  as  only  a  smaller  common 
wealth,  or  a  more  complicated  individual,  or  an  undisci 
plined  church.  God  has  ordained  it,  as  he  has  ordained 
the  state,  the  individual,  and  the  Church.  But  he  has 
not,  in  one  case  more  than  in  the  others,  fixed,  by  abso 
lute  or  arbitrary  rule,  the  form  that  the  institution  shall 
put  on.  He  leaves  the  body,  into  which  the  life  shall  be 


THE    LAW    OF    THE    HOUSE.  183 

developed,  to  be  shaped  by  the  shifting  conditions  of 
time,  circumstance,  culture,  temperament.  Just  as  the 
empire  at  Rome,  the  oligarchy  at  Athens,  the  chieftain 
ship  of  the  Cherokees,  and  the  republic  of  the  United 
States,  are  ah1  alike  divine  powers  in  the  world,  —  not 
because  they  are  empire  and  oligarchy,  despotism  or  de 
mocracy,  but  simply  because  they  are  all  government, 
that  is,  organized  order,  for  each  given  people,  —  so  the 
family  may  be  a  very  different  institution,  in  kind,  in 
Siam,  in  Turkey,  or  in  New  England  ;  but  in  each  coun 
try  it  is  an  institution,  and  God  recognizes  it  as  sacred. 
It  is  the  best  representative  of  the  idea  of  family  to  be 
had  of  that  nation  in  that  age.  It  is  suffered  to  stand, 
not  as  the  best  abstract  or  absolute  form  of  family,  but 
because  there  is  now  none  better.  The  prime  intention 
of  it  is  only  very  imperfectly  embodied  in  the  histori 
cal  fact ;  the  particular  example,  savage  or  Turkish  or 
English,  may  be  a  poor  expression  of  the  original  and 
universal  idea  of  family,  as  it  lay  in  the  Creative  Mind. 
Still,  man  must  accept  it  into  his  respect,  as  God  accepts 
it  into  his  providential  method,  not  for  what  it  lacks,  but 
for  what  it  contains  ;  not  because  it  is  everything  it  might 
be,  but  in  spite  of  what  it  is  not.  If  the  Almighty  Jus 
tice  could  take  into  the  system  by  which  he  works  out 
the  destinies  of  the  race,  such  corrupt  societies  as  Corinth 
and  Carthage,  such  tyrants  as  Caesar  Borgia  and  Herod, 
such  princes  as  Louis  XIV.  and  Henry  VIII.,  man  is 
bound  by  every  moral  law  to  reverence  this  appointment 
of  the  household  for  the  germ  of  truth  it  holds  in  its  bo 
som,  —  though  in  any  given  case  it  should  be  outwardly 
as  unsound  as  the  shell  that  falls  off  from  the  springing 
corn. 

Do  you  ask  why,  then,  if  God  meant  the  family  to  be 


184  '  THE    LAW    OF    THE    HOUSE. 

regarded  as  a  sacred  institution,  he  has  not  kept  it  sacred 
from  degradation  and  abuse,  I  refer  you  to  the  simple 
fact,  —  obvious  certainly  if  not  intelligible  to  us,  —  that 
he  has  admitted  into  the  problem  of  all  our  life  another 
element  besides  his  own  almightiness,  namely,  man's 
free  will ;  that  is,  allowing  a  certain  amount  of  interference 
from  human  perversity,  short-sightedness,  and  depravity. 
And  these  disturbing  influences  have  thrust  themselves 
in  to  mar  the  beauty  and  debase  the  virtue  of  the  house, 
as  they  have  to  pollute  every  region,  business,  and  fac 
ulty.  "  The  trail  of  the  serpent  is  over  them  all."  We 
might  as  well  ask  why  the  sacred  trust  of  government  has 
been  suffered  to  fall  into  bloody  and  rapacious  hands,  — 
why  the  Church  has  sometimes  reeked  with  corruption, 
and  its  sacraments  have  been  dispensed  by  perjury,  blas 
phemy,  and  sensuality,  —  as  hesitate  to  hold  the  family 
an  ordinance  of  God,  because  ah1  the  heavenly  graces  are 
not  grouped  together  to  adorn  every  dwelling.  Heaven's 
benignant  design  has  suffered  postponement  from  our 
choosing  evil  over  good  ;  and  certainly  we  who  have  in 
troduced  the  mischiefs  of  disorder  should  not  be  forward 
to  censure  what  our  own  folly  has  spoiled. 

So  much  for  the  first  point,  —  that  the  house  is  a  divine 
appointment.  And  the  rule  of  practice  drawn  thus  far  is, 
that  the  more  we  reverence  it  for  that  divine  ordaining, 
the  more  we  shall  see  God  in  its  daily  aspect,  and  strive 
to  set  it  into  his  order. 

II.  My  next  position  is  that  every  family  has  its  law 
of  family  life,  —  its  ruling  principle  or  passion.  Its  in 
dividual  members  may  differ  very  widely  from  each  other 
in  disposition  or  character.  The  same  house  may  hold  a 
quick-tempered  brother  and  an  even-tempered  sister ;  a 
thoughtful  husband  and  a  worldly  wife  ;  a  conscientious 


THE    LAW    OF    THE    HOUSE.  185 

parent  and  a  headstrong  child  ;  yet  you  will  discover 
running  through  them  all  a  certain  family  character,  a 
spirit  of  the  house,  pervading  all  and  modifying  each. 
Just  as  a  general  physical  resemblance,  mixed  up  with 
many  diversities  of  feature  and  manner,  marks  them  as 
of  one  blood,  so  a  uniform  tone  of  the  dwelling  pierces 
through  all  that  is  peculiar  to  the  person.  This  charac 
teristic  something,  giving  moral  complexion  to  the  whole, 
we  may  call  the  Law  of  the  House.  It  is  made  up  of  the 
moral  convictions,  purposes  of  life,  habits  of  domestic  in 
tercourse,  and  degrees  of  culture,  common  to  all.  The 
law  of  a  feudal  castle  was  stately  supremacy  ;  of  a  Puri 
tan's  dwelling,  devout  decorum  ;  of  a  modern  Jew's,  ava 
rice  ;  of  a  South-Sea-Islander's,  indolent  luxury ;  of  an 
Algerine's,  plunder  ;  of  a  frontier  huntsman's,  hardy  ad 
venture.  So  within  our  own  social  system  :  the  law  of 
one  house  is  personal  display  ;  of  another,  money  ;  of 
another,  animal  comfort ;  of  another,  social  ambition  ; 
of  another,  unceasing  mutual  irritation,  where  each  man 
is  an  overreaching  Esau ;  of  another,  petty  anxieties, 
where  every  woman  is  a  troubled  Martha  ;  of  another, 
intellectual  improvement ;  of  another,  affectionate  atten 
tions  ;  of  another  still,  religious  duty.  And  there  are  some 
families  —  Heaven  forbear  with  them  !  —  in  which  the 
only  law  of  the  house  seems  to  be  that  the  lodgers  there 
shall  be  in  it  as  little  as  possible  ;  the  problem  of  every 
morning  being  where  to  spend  the  evening,  —  the  dread 
ed  curse  being  the  necessity  of  spending  it  at  home,  and 
home  itself  sunk  into  a  compound  contrivance  of  dormi 
tory  and  eating-room.  If  each  one  finds  it  difficult  to 
understand  its  own  ruling  trait,  it  will  easily  be  satisfied 
of  the  quality  of  its  neighbors.  And  it  is  among  the 
habits  of  our  familiar  conversation  to  specify  certain 


186  THE    LAW    OF    THE    HOUSE. 

moral  attributes  as  pertaining  to  certain  families,  speak 
ing  of  them  collectively. 

Observe,  too,  that  this  general  spirit  of  the  household 
life  is  really  a  more  powerful  element  in  it  than  any  spe 
cial  plan  or  work.  Being  permanent,  it  gives  a  right  or 
wrong  character  to  that  multitude  of  little  actions  which 
hardly  have  much  moral  significance  of  their  own,  and 
it  makes  every  deed  we  do  more  virtuous,  or  more  sinful, 
by  putting  into  it  so  much  of  a  good  spirit  or  a  bad. 
This  supreme  Law  of  the  House  bears  the  same  relation 
to  ordinary  domestic  transactions  that  political  science 
recognizes  between  what  Lord  Bacon  called  the  law  of 
laws,  that  is,  the  universal  principles  by  which  all  gov 
ernments,  however  framed,  should  act  for  the  benefit  of 
the  people,  and  those  laws  pertaining  to  a  particular 
state,  discriminating  as  to  its  several  departments,  regu 
lating  judicial,  legislative,  and  executive  functions.  It 
will  predominate,  in  the  long  run,  over  all  occasional  im 
pulses,  all  the  affairs  of  the  day.  It  is  the  great  control 
ling  influence,  determining  the  spiritual  standing  of  the 
family.  It  is  the  law  of  the  family  life. 

Observe,  also,  thart  no  inmate  of.  your  house  is  too  in 
experienced  to  have  this  influence  stealing  in  upon  him, 
moulding  his  future  manhood.  The  law  of  the  house 
works  itself  into  the  circulations  and  fibres  of  every  grow 
ing  branch.  The  youngest  child  in  the  circle  is  watching 
your  face,  committing  your  tones  and  motions  to  mem 
ory,  taking  your  most  unconscious  language  for  a  lesson, 
and  laying  up  the  careless  revelations  of  your  frivolity  or 
your  piety  for  future  imitation.  If  he  sees  that  all  your 
familiar  arrangements  are  made  to  redound  to  your  self 
ish  enjoyment,  at  the  cost  of  others'  welfare,  why  should 
he  not  turn  out  a  self-seeker,  —  disagreeable  and  wretch- 


THE    LAW    OF    THE    HOUSE.  187 

ed  ?  If  he  sees  that  you  make  worship  and  conscience 
subordinate  to  a  bargain,  or  a  pleasure-party,  what  is  to 
hinder  him  from  growing  up  into  a  dishonest  speculator 
or  a  dissolute  prodigal  ?  If,  on  the  other  hand,  he  be 
holds  in  your  daily  example  some  noble  evidence  of  a 
devotion  to  God,  and  fidelity  to  right,  which  shape  all 
your  transactions  into  an  offering  of  religion,  then,  unless 
some  very  cruel  seduction  besets  him  from  abroad,  he  is 
a  candidate  for  a  Christian  maturity. 

This,  then,  is  the  second  point  established,  —  that  there 
is  always  a  spirit  of  the  house,  or  law  of  the  family,  of 
one  kind  or  another,  blessing  or  cursing,  —  forming  char 
acter,  day  by  day,  for  salvation  or  perdition.  The  prac 
tical  reflection  is,  what  tremendous  consequences  to  every 
soul  hang  on  the  decision,  whether  this  law  is  a  ruling 
passion  or  a  ruling  principle. 

III.  But  another  truth  is  to  come,  —  a  truth  to  which 
these  preceding  ones  are  but  preparatory  steps.  There 
is  only  one  law,  after  all,  which  can  meet,  satisfy,  and 
redeem  a  family  of  God's  children.  Without  this,  what 
ever  desire  or  purpose  takes  ascendency,  there  is  no  dura 
ble  order,  there  is  no  established  peace,  there  is  no  spir 
itual  fellowship.  I  wish  to  deny  no  facts,  even  though, 
by  being  misplaced  or  exaggerated,  they  may  mislead 
and  betray.  Admit  all  that  the  utmost  sophistry,  plead 
ing  the  cause  of  flesh  and  the  Devil,  can  pretend. 
Wealth  will  do  something  for  you;  a  library  will  do 
something;  increasing  profits  in  merchandise,  increasing 
dividends  on  stocks,  a  salary  that  more  than  covers 
your  expenditure,  —  verily  they  that  seek  these  as  the 
supreme  good  have  their  reward !  Does  it  satisfy,  then, 
the  hunger  of  an  aspiring  soul  ?  Does  it  meet  the  crav 
ing  of  your  soberest,  which  are  your  truest,  hours  ?  Does 


188  THE    LAW    OF    THE    HOUSE. 

it  even  realize  that  dim  and  vague  ideal  with  which  you 
started  on  your  course  ?  Unless  you  let  the  friendly  au 
thority  of  the  Son  of  God,  who  knew  all  that  is  in  the 
heart  and  died  to  save  it  from  sorrow,  answer  for  you, 
you  must  answer  for  yourself  by  the  fearful  process  of 
trying  the  experiment.  Try  it ;  and  if  you  do  not  die 
before  it  is  done,  you  will  infallibly  admit  at  last,  with  a 
satiated  heart  and  a  broken  spirit,  what  you  refuse  to  be 
lieve  at  a  Saviour's  invitation ! 

You  have  seen  manhood  and  womanhood  begin  their 
household  life,  with  no  deeper  purpose  than  the  acciden 
tal  pleasure  of  the  day ;  no  preparation  of  faith  for  any 
other  than  times  of  prosperity  or  health ;  no  consecration 
to  the  God  of  death  and  life,  of  sick-chambers,  of  the 
dull  waste  of  hope,  and  disappointed  fortunes,  and  part 
ing  clasps  of  the  hand  at  death-beds.  But  neither  I,  nor 
you,  nor  any  human  witness,  ever  saw  that  a  life  so  be 
gun,  and  lived  through  on  that  low  level,  was  felt  to  an 
swer  the  high  ends  for  which  life  was  given.  There  was 
a  certain  fading  away,  year  by  year,  of  the  meaning  that 
was  hid  in  honest  vows ;  a  tragic  dying  out  of  all  lumi 
nous  and  satisfying  thoughts.  There  will  be  some  low 
under-note  of  warning  in  all  endearments  and  all  glad 
ness  ;  some  hollow  sound  in  mirth ;  some  sudden  droop 
ing  of  spirits  at  the  end  of  the  feast ;  some  dimness  on 
the  fine  gold,  —  wages  that  enterprise  has  earned,  or 
prizes  that  bold  ventures  have  drawn.  There  will  be  a 
dreary  look  sometimes  on  the  costly  furnishings.  Curi 
osities  of  art  and  ingenuity  will  mock  the  empty  spirit. 
A  father's  praise  will  not  be  a  father's  blessing ;  a  moth 
er's  glance  of  pride  will  not  be  a  mother's  holy  prayer ; 
the  brother's  departure  to  other  lands  will  leave  no  con 
soling  presence  of  faith  to  commend  him  to  the  God  of 


THE    LAW    OF    THE    HOUSE.  189 

oceans  and  of  storms ;  the  innocence  of  the  sister  will  be 
the  charm  of  earth  rather  than  the  benediction  of  Heaven  ; 
and  the  child's  promise,  a  foreshadowing  of  honors  here, 
instead  of  immortality  hereafter.  Even  the  sanguine 
affection  that  gives  the  marriage-pledge  cannot  keep  its 
beauty,  its  purity,  or  its  power,  unless  prayers  to  Heaven 
relight  its  decaying  flame.  The  faith  of  heart  in  heart 
will  fail,  at  last,  without  faith  in  God.  Except  you  "  set 
your  house  in  order  "  by  the  religion  of  Christ,  you  throw 
it  open  to  an  inevitable  anarchy  of  passions. 

"  Set  thine  house  in  order,"  by  the  faith  of  the  Re 
deemer  who  died  for  thee,  by  the  holy  vigilance  of  a 
prayerful  mind,  by  enthroning  over  your  every  action 
reverence  for  Almighty  God.  Nothing  else  will  bring 
that  order  in.  However  the  outward  economy  may 
flourish,  the  omnipotence  of  Heaven  is  pledged,  that  in 
the  spiritual  house  no  order  can  be,  but  discord  rather, 
and  confusion,  and  every  evil  thing,  save  by  faith. 

Set  thy  house  in  order  by  a  religious  faith.  Parents, 
without  Christian  hearts,  not  tasting,  nor  even  praying 
to  taste,  regeneration  for  themselves,  offer  substitutes. 
There  can  be  no  substitute.  It  is  not  in  the  power  of 
irreligious  ingenuity  to  devise  one.  It  is  not  in  the  jus 
tice  or  the  mercy  of  God  to  accept  one.  Some  parents 
you  have  known,  and  some  such  there  are,  possibly, 
amongst  you,  who  seem  to  have  strangely  imagined  they 
can  live  out  the  remainder  of  ungodly  lives  with  impu 
nity,  if  they  will  atone  for  their  own  worldliness  by 
affording  their  children  a  good  moral  education.  "  Our 
sons  and  daughters,"  they  say,  "  shall  learn  prayer  and 
holiness ;  have  us  excused."  God  has  no  relief  for  thee, 
under  that  profane  inconsistency.  He  calls  thee,  evasive 
father  or  timid  mother,  thee  alone,  and  by  thyself,  thou 


190  THE    LAW    OP    THE    HOUSE. 

wicked  and  slothful  servant,  to  give  thy  own  soul  to 
him.  Set  thy  house  in  order;  and  that  the  order  may 
come,  establish  that  spiritual  economy,  where  religion  is 
law,  first  in  thy  own  penitent  soul.  Order  shall  not  be, 
except  it  is  Heaven's  order ;  and  of  that,  self-renunciation 
is  the  foremost  condition.  Sunday-schools  to  lead  thy 
little  ones  to  Heaven !  evening-hymns  listened  to  heart 
lessly  by  their  pillows!  an  occasional  sigh,  of  mock  hu 
mility,  that  they  may  come  out  well  at  last !  these  are 
not  the  gates  of  safety  on  which  you  are  to  depend. 
Come  out  well  at  last  ?  What  right  have  you  to  hope 
they  shall  ever  come  out  into  paths  of  righteousness, 
where  they  shall  never  see  your  own  feet  leading  the 
way? 

Set  thy  house  in  this  order  of  devotion.  It  may  cost 
sacrifice  and  struggle  ;  it  must  cost  repentance,  humilia 
tion,  breaking  up  of  vicious  alliances,  abandonment  of 
unrighteous  gains  ;  it  may  cost  you  the  "  dread  laugh  of 
the  world  "  to  bend  your  knees  to  your  Maker.  Does 
the  Eternal  Voice  say  any  the  less  solemnly,  "  Set  thy 
house  in  order "  ?  Are  there  exceptions  for  your  indif 
ference  ?  Are  the  mandates  of  eternity  to  be  suspended, 
are  the  twelve  legions  of  angels  to  be  perplexed  with 
wonder,  are  the  instant  counsels  of  the  God  of  heaven 
to  be  adjourned,  for  your  unyielding  pride  ?  Mock  not 
thyself,  nor  thy  Maker,  with  the  decencies  of  refinement, 
purchased  into  thy  house  with  money,  with  all  the  ac 
complishments  of  many  languages  and  sciences,  with 
elegances  of  hospitality,  and  dignity  of  breeding,  and 
even  the  correctness  of  an  external  prudence  hallowed 
by  no  trust  in  the  Christ  of  Calvary,  —  by  crowding 
these  things  —  O  mournful,  desperate  attempt !  —  into 
the  empty  throne  where  the  love  of  God  alone  in  Christ 
Jesus  should  be ! 


THE    LAW    OF    THE    HOUSE.  191 

Set  thy  house  in  the  spiritual  order.  Hang  its  walls 
with  nobler  pictures  than  art  ever  brought  to  adorn  Vat 
ican  or  Escurial,  —  with  the  living  beauty  of  holy  deeds. 
Arrange  in  its  spiritual  economy,  each  in  its  own  ap 
pointed  place,  charities  that  shall  make  its  air  genial, 
solid  virtues  of  integrity  and  faith  to  be  its  foundation- 
stones,  graces  of  forbearance  and  meekness  and  gentle 
ness  to  embellish  it,  hopes  of  immortality  to  light  it,  and 
peace  which  comes  of  trust  to  fill  it  with  fragrant  incense. 
As  there  never  yet  was  order  without  law,  nor  law  with 
out  authority,  nor  authority  without  a  supreme  or  ruling 
head,  —  so  in  the  household,  as  in  the  soul's  single  life, 
there  can  be  no  setting  in  order,  unless  Christ's  cross  is 
lifted  up  in  the  midst  of  it. 

There  is  another  clause  of  the  text  which  I  have  not 
repeated  ;  and  how  soberly  does  it  admonish  us,  that  any 
other  order  than  this  I  have  described  Providence  must 
some  day  disturb,  —  breaking  in  upon  the  visible  circle 
with  what  a  desolating  hand  !  "  Thus  saith  the  Lord, 
Set  thine  house  in  order  ;  for  thou  shalt  die,  and  not  live." 
Order  in  the  outward  family,  —  in  the  perpetual  array  of 
sons  and  daughters,  offspring  and  parents,  —  does  Scrip 
ture  bid  you  seek  for  this  ?  Eyes  blinded  and  burnt  by 
scalding  tears,  for  sudden  and  bitter  bereavements,  will 
weep  yet  again  and  again,  as  they  wander  over  the  broken 
group  that  gathers  now  at  their  side,  searching  for  some 
vanished  form.  And  the  mourners  are  ready  to  cry, 
"  O  tantalizing  expectation,  that  we  should  ever  see  that 
order  restored,  and  the  beloved  ranks  of  manly  strength, 
or  maidenly  bloom,  or  childish  grace,  refilled ! "  Pa 
tience  ;  for  it  cannot  be.  But  if  the  other  order  is  un 
broken,  —  if  Faith  waits  in  it  with  her  heavenward  look, 
and  Hope  with  her  strong  anchor,  and  Resignation,  saying, 


192  THE    LAW    OF    THE    HOUSE. 

"  Thy  will  be  done,"  —  then  the  vacancies  of  the  earthly 
house  shall  be  supplied  again  in  the  heavenly  ;  the  de 
parted  shall  come  back  to  the  places  that  knew  them 
before,  in  tabernacles  not  made  with  hands ;  the  order  of 
Christian  affections  here  shall  be  a  type  of  the  perfect 
order  of  the  new  family  in  the  skies. 

"  Thou  shalt  die,  and  not  live."  We  cannot  see  be 
fore  us.  No  hand  can  tear  one  leaf  from  the  sealed  book 
where  the  recording  angel  has  written  against  all  our 
names  the  day  of  our  great  change.  A  veil  shuts  close 
down  before  our  eyes  on  the  very  spot  where  we  stand. 
This  year,  or  another  ;  yourself  first,  or  one  you  love  bet 
ter  than  yourself ;  by  slow  decline,  or  swift  destruction  : 
these  are  secrets.  But  there  is  no  dimness  over  the  com 
mand  that  points  us  to  the  open  way  of  life  ;  no  uncer 
tainty  in  the  immortal  promise,  "  Set  thy  house  in 
order  "  ;  and  then,  though  "  absent  from  the  body,"  thou 
shalt  be  present  with  "  the  Father  of  Jesus  Christ,  our 
Lord,  of  whom  the  whole  family,  in  heaven  and  earth, 
is  named." 


SERMON    XIV. 

CHILDREN,  — HOW  TO  BE  RECEIVED. 


WHOSOEVER  SHALL  RECEIVE  THIS  CHILD  IN  MY  NAME,  RECEIVETH 

ME.  —  Luke  ix.  48. 


IT  sometimes  seems  to  be  understood  that  Christ,  in 
these  words,  means  merely  to  commend  childlike  quali 
ties, —like  moral  simplicity,  guilelessness,  trust,  affec- 
tionateness.  We  have  independent  proofs  enough  that 
all  these  traits  engaged  Christ's  personal  interest,  and  are 
enjoined  by  the  whole  spirit  of  his  religion  on  every 
disciple.  Wherever  the  divine  light  really  shines,  these 
pure  qualities  will  open  their  beauty  and  fragrance  to  the 
air,  as  gracefully  as  the  first  wild-flowers  obey  the  solicit- 
ings  of  the  sunshine  in  spring.  Undoubtedly,  as  Jesus 
elsewhere  says,  whoever  will  not  receive  the  kingdom  of 
Heaven  with  this  simple,  unaffected  childlikeness,  this 
heart  of  unquestioning  faith,  this  subordination  of  intel 
lectual  pride  and  personal  ambition  to  spontaneous 
Christian  love,  cannot  enter  therein. 

But  here  the  statement  is  different.  We  are  told  what 
it  is  to  receive  a  little  child.  The  Master  instructs  us 
how  to  greet  new-born  souls  on  their  entrance  into  life, 
with  what  feelings  to  take  them  into  our  arms,  what  es 
timate  to  put  on  their  immortal  capacity,  and  with  what 

17 


194  CHILDREN, HOW    TO    BE    RECEIVED. 

grand  purpose  to  educate  them.  All  this  he  includes  in 
the  precept,  that  we  "  receive  them  in  his  name."  Could 
the  sacred  and  profound  and  peculiar  duty  which  Chris 
tendom  owes  to  its  offspring  be  more  comprehensively 
declared  ?  How  can  we  be  said  to  receive  children  in 
the  name  of  Christ  ?  Plainly  enough,  it  is  not  by  lavish 
ing  upon  them  a  sentimental  admiration,  or  an  indulgent 
fondness  ;  it  is  not  by  making  them  the  materials  of  a 
thoughtless  amusement ;  it  is  not  by  rejoicing  over  them 
with  a  selfish  sort  of  pride,  as  the  heirs  of  our  property 
or  the  upholders  of  our  worldly  reputation  ;  it  is  not  by 
carelessness  of  their  spiritual  training  and  neglect  of  their 
souls.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  by  regarding  them  as  the 
lawful  inheritors  of  Christ's  spiritual  promises,  —  as  the 
intended  members  of  his  Church,  and  imitators  of  his  life, 
and  partakers  of  his  redemption,  —  as  the  appointed  sub 
jects  of  baptism,  of  prayer,  and  of  inward  renewal,, — 
as  being  born,  each  one,  to  yield  the  world  a  Christian 
character,  and  thus  as  being  profanely  and  terribly 
wronged  whenever  an  irreligious  indifference  cheats  them 
of  this  immortal  portion.  This,  Christ  would  teach  us, 
is  to  receive  children  in  his  name.  This  is  to  take  them 
for  what  they  are ;  solemnly  to  take  them  into  our  hands, 
as  out  of  the  hand  of  God,  and  while  clasping  them  to 
our  breasts  with  natural  human  love,  to  look  reverently 
up  to  their  higher  Father,  and  lift  consecrating  petitions 
that  they  may  be  saved  in  the  life  everlasting.  Do  this, 
and  you  will  have  no  occasion  to  run  in  search  of  a  visi 
ble  empire,  or  outward  honors.  You  may  cease  con 
tending  with  one  another,  ambitious  disciples,  about 
high  places  in  the  government,  and  turn  your  emulation 
into  a  more  domestic  realm.  Do  this,  parents,  and  the 
kingdom  of  Heaven  will  come  in  the  natural  way, 


CHILDREN, HOW    TO    BE    RECEIVED.  195 

handed  down  from  parent  to  child  in  the  blood  and  all 
the  hereditary  influences  of  believing  generations,  spread 
ing  and  gaining  power  with  all  the  growth  and  progress 
of  the  race.  Do  this,  fathers  and  mothers,  and  instead  of 
prostituting  your  energies  to  base  contentions  after  the 
prizes  of  fortune  or  reputation,  you  will  find  your  dignity 
and  reward  in  developing  imperishable  graces  in  your 
children's  hearts.  Instead  of  honoring  earthly  prince 
doms,  or  an  aristocracy  of  wealth,  you  will  honor  the 
Divine  image  in  the  lowliest  infant.  To  symbolize  this 
spiritual  truth,  the  Divine  Redeemer  himself  became  a 
child ;  he  passed  to  the  glory  of  his  mediatorship  and  the 
right  hand  of  the  Father  through  the  swaddling-clothes 
that  all  humanity  must  wear ;  he  entered  into  the  com 
plete  experience  of  the  race  by  being  a  babe  in  a  cradle; 
the  sages  knelt  at  the  manger ;  intellect  bowed  to  spirit 
uality.  And  now,  to  this  day,  whatever  Christian  par 
ent,  out  of  a  living  and  supreme  faith  in  Christ,  recog 
nizes  the  sanctity  of  a  child's  life,  and  diligently  trains 
him  up  to  be  a  disciple,  receives  that  child  in  the  name 
of  Christ,  and  gives  the  surest  evidence  that  he  has  re 
ceived  Christ  himself.  IJe  helps  to  fulfil  the  final  and 
inspiring  prediction  with  which  the  prophet  of  the  old 
dispensation  ushered  in  and  described  the  new,  —  that  the 
hearts  of  the  fathers  should  be  turned  to  the  children,  and 
the  hearts  of  the  children  to  their  fathers. 

Let  me  ask  you  to  look  at  some  of  the  popular  habits 
of  regarding  children,  —  yourselves  judging  how  prevalent 
they  may  be,  —  and  contrast  them  with  what  it  would  be 
to  receive  them  in  the  name  of  Christ. 

One  class  of  parents  receive  the  little  child  in  the  name 
of  money.  You  may  think  the  charge  of  such  a  revolting 
profanation  a  harsh  one  to  bring  against  any  members  of 


196  CHILDREN, HOW    TO    BE    RECEIVED. 

a  respectable  community.  Would  that  all  who  are 
prompt  to  repel  it  in  language  were  as  scrupulous  to  dis 
own  it  practically !  But  look  underneath  words  and  the 
resentments  of  a  false  sensibility,  to  facts.  If  there  are 
any  among  you  who  oftenest  think  of  your  children  in 
connection  with  property,  either  through  the  inquiry  how 
much  they  will  cost  or  how  much  they  will  hereafter  come 
to  possess  ;  if  there  are  any  who  make  the  foremost  pleas 
ure  in  your  children  to  consist  in  arraying  them  in  the 
costly  fineries  of  an  extravagant  expenditure,  pampering 
your  own  vanity  by  sending  them  forth  to  the  gazers  of 
the  streets,  decked  in  the  badges  of  a  weak  display,  using 
the  poor  body  as  a  dumb  frame  whereon  to  spread  forth 
your  own  fopperies,  and  initiating  their  waking  senses 
into  the  accursed  thirst  for  show  that  fevers  all  our  public 
manners  ;  or  if  there  are  any  who,  by  positive  example  or 
indirect  suggestion,  breed  in  your  children  the  pernicious 
notion  that  what  we  live  for  as  we  grow  up  is  to  be 
richer  than  our  neighbors,  —  then  you  do,  in  reality,  re 
ceive  the  little  child  in  the  name  of  money.  Merchan 
dise  is  made  of  his  mind  and  his  heart.  The  same  effect 
is  produced,  in  a  different  way,  if,  by  a  penurious  temper, 
you  so  misproportion  your  outlay  as  to  pinch  the  nobler 
and  more  generous  impulses  in  your  children,  thus  incul 
cating  parsimony  as  a  lesson.  I  do  not  deny  that  a  cer 
tain  impulsive  affection  may  be  mixed  with  this  shame 
ful  abuse.  That  affection  may  be  very  strong.  But  the 
tender  and  holy  love  of  a  Christian  parentage,  which  God 
can  bless,  is  not  there.  You  would  deem  it  a  horrible 
cruelty  if  any  father  were  to  brand  with  a  red-hot  dollar 
the  forehead  of  his  boy.  But  you  may  scorch  your 
child's  spirit  with  the  mark  of  a  more  fearful  and  lasting 
disfigurement ;  and  that  you  do,  whenever  your  conver- 


CHILDREN, HOW    TO    BE    RECEIVED.  197 

sation,  your  passionate  eagerness  for  gain,  or  your  daily 
practice  of  estimating  men  and  things  by  their  money- 
value,  fixes  slowly  but  deeply  in  his  mind  the  avaricious 
lust  that  is  never  satisfied  with  getting.  He  will  take 
the  mould  of  his  surroundings.  The  style  of  living  that 
you  make  his  daily  scenery,  the  tone  of  talk  that  you 
make  his  common  atmosphere  vocal  with,  will  reflect 
themselves  infallibly  in  his  future  manhood.  He  will 
have  a  large  soul,  or  a  belittled  one  ;  he  will  be  brave  and 
self-poised,  or  a  feeble  driveller ;  he  will  be  an  indepen 
dent  leader  of  public  opinion,  or  a  miserable  slave  to  his 
own  interests ;  —  in  a  word,  he  will  be  a  nobly  developed 
child  or  a  spoilt  one,  according  as  you  receive  him  in 
the  name  of  Christ,  or  in  the  name  of  money. 

Another  class  of  parents  receive  the  little  child  in  the 
name  of  worldly  success.  By  this  estimation  of  child 
hood  I  mean  something  a  little  less  sottish  than  the  one 
just  noticed,  because  it  admits  some  less  gross  ingredi 
ents.  To  receive. a  child  in  the  name  of  worldly  success, 
is  to  be  chiefly  anxious  for  his  social  position  and  his 
business  prospects.  It  is  to  make  everything  in  his  train 
ing  bear  on  his  thrift  in  trade,  or,  with  the  daughter,  on 
her  marriage  with  a  thrifty  husband.  It  is  forgotten,  that, 
for  every  man,  there  is  a  better  kind  of  success  than  suc 
cess  in  his  trade,  —  not  inconsistent  with  that,  but,  on  the 
contrary,  helping  it.  as  righteousness  always  strengthens 
prosperity,  —  and  that  for  every  woman  there  is  a  devout 
womanhood  attainable,  more  honorable  than  any  wedlock. 
The  mistake  I  speak  of  is  not  inconsistent  with  the  ut 
most  pains  to  furnish  children  with  a  good  secular  educa 
tion.  Only  every  science  studied  must  light  some  path 
to  enterprise,  and  of  all  sciences  calculation  is  the  chief; 
every  language  learned  must  be  a  stepping-stone  to  a 


198  CHILDREN, HOW    TO    BE    RECEIVED. 

profitable  situation  ;  every  talent  must  be  convertible  into 
current  coin ;  every  accomplishment  must  prepare  the 
way  to  a  paying  office,  or  conciliate  custom.  No  faculty 
like  the  faculty  of  skilful  traffic  or  pushing  for  promotion. 
If  we  were  stark  materialists,  —  and  nothing  is  more  ex 
actly  adapted  to  degrade  us  into  materialism,  —  this 
would  be  a  very  acceptable  philosophy  of  life  and  learn 
ing, —  a  life  without  a  faith,  and  a  learning  without  a 
Bible.  But  the  moment  you  look  down  a  little  way  into 
the  unsounded  and  infinite  mysteries  of  your  child's  im 
mortality  ;  the  moment  you  open  the  New  Testament 
and  sink  back  into  the  sober  convictions  which  its  inspired 
sentences  reawaken  in  you ;  the  moment  you  look  around 
you  at  the  ever-burning  fires  of  trial,  like  disease,  or  nat 
ural  calamity,  or  bereavement,  which  try  every  man's 
work,  and  see  how  all  earthly  goods  turn  to  ashes  in  those 
fires ;  the  moment  you  look  forward  and  in  solemn  antici 
pation  let  the  Divine  word  lead  you,  following  your  child, 
into  the  presence  of  the  unchangeable  realities  and  the 
certain  judgment,  —  then  you  feel  again  how  different  a 
thing  it  is  to  receive  and  treat  that  child  in  the  safe  and 
life-giving  name  of  Christ,  from  receiving  and  treating 
him  in  the  name  of  a  worldly  success  the  most  brilliant 
or  most  substantial. 

Another  class  still,  not  unrepresented  among  us,  receive 
the  child  in  the  name  of  selfish  joy.  In  infancy,  the  ra 
diant  little  creature  is  the  graceful  toy  of  idle  hours. 
Later,  he  is  the  precious  minister  to  a  proud  compla 
cency, —  the  necessary  image,  and  probably  the  central 
image,  to  fill  out  the  circle  of  personal  comfort  and  de 
light.  The  father  comes  home  from  the  engrossments  of 
business,  he  takes  out  his  neck  a  moment  from  the  yoke 
of  traffic,  and  his  children  are  the  welcome  instruments 


CHILDREN, HOW    TO    BE    RECEIVED.  199 

of  his  recreation.  The  mother  watches  her  darling  boy, 
or  girl,  with  a  vigilance  that  never  flags  nor  cools.  But 
there  is  such  a  thing  as  maternal  vigilance  prompted  by 
mere  human  fondness,  or  the  passion  for  the  dear  one's 
presence,  —  all  holiness  crushed  out  of  it,  because  it  is 
without  God.  You  know  what  the  grave  does  with  that. 
And  there  is  the  vigilance  of  a  Christian  mother's  love, 
more  faithful  unspeakably,  and  over  that  you  know  that 
death"  and  the  whole  army  of  diseases  have  no  power. 

I  know  of  hardty  any  gloomier  sight  in  the  world  than 
one  of  these  homes  ruled  by  this  world's  temper,  where 
this  unsanctified  pride  in  children's  beauty  or  attainments, 
however  strong  or  kind,  is  nothing  under  the  sun  but  an 
extension  of  poor  self-love,  —  the  celestial  quality,  the 
divine  element,  of  parental  affection,  perished  from  it; 
homes  where  the  spiritual  law  and  life  in  Christ  find  no 
grateful  recognition,  exercise  no  binding  control ;  homes 
where  everything  else  is  done  for  children  except  that  one 
thing  without  which  all  else  is  worthless,  receiving  them 
in  the  name  of  Christ ;  where  parents  gaze  into  the  child's 
face  only  to  see  a  reflection  of  their  own  personal  satis 
faction,  and  cling  to  the  frail  body  all  the  more  tena 
ciously  and  desperately  because  there  is  no  tranquil  look 
ing  forward  beyond  the  bodily  separation.  Again  and 
again  I  have  involuntarily  shuddered  at  one  of  these 
melancholy  spectacles,  —  all  the  happiness  so  superficial, 
so  fragile,  so  sure  to  be  rent  to  pieces  presently  and  scat 
tered  on  the  winds.  I  have  seen  the  sad  instinctive  terror 
with  which  the  thought,  or  the  uttered  hint,  that  the  child 
might  some  time  die,  was  stifled.  I  have  seen  the  dread 
ful  struggle  of  unbelieving  love,  to  put  aside  and  cover 
up  the  irresistible  decrees  of  God.  A  pure  and  lovely 
child  in  such  a  house,  in  the  arms  of  such  a  father,  ought 


200  CHILDREN,— r  HOW    TO    BE    RECEIVED. 

to  be  painted  like  a  spotless  angel  held  in  the  grasp  of 
some  cool,  calculating,  faithless  demon  of  the  pit.  O 
was  there  no  better,  no  more  spiritual,  no  more  Christian 
welcome,  for  that  stainless  heart  on  God's  earth  than 
this  ?  Love  is  there,  if  so  bad  a  counterfeit  of  God's 
best  gift  deserves  the  name  ;  but  think  of  the  anguish 
that  waits  inevitably  on  unbelieving  affections.  The  hour 
comes.  If  the  dark  distress  of  moral  ruin,  a  wrecked 
conscience,  does  not  come,  that  other  event  comes-  that 
is  inexorable.  No  selfishness  is  hard  enough,  or  firm  or 
close  enough,  to  ward  off  disorders  or  baffle  Providence. 
And  when  it  comes,  God  spare  the  anguish  of  the  par 
ent  that  is  bereaved  without  Christ,  and  so  sorrows  with 
out  hope  !  To  those  that  have  never  tasted  the  experi 
ence,  these  words  may  sound  unreal ;  but  all  of  you 
who  have  looked  on  your  dead  child's  face,  know  that 
in  that  hour  there  are  but  three  realities  in  the  universe  : 
one  of  these  is  sorrow,  —  and  it  is  sorrow,  utter  and  hope 
less  to  all  them  that  do  not  feel  the  other  two,  —  God,  and 
the  eternal  life  brought  to  light  in  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord. 
There  is  another  class  of  parents  yet,  —  beside  those 
that  receive  the  child  in  the  name  of  Christ,  —  and  it  is 
made  up  of  those  that  receive  him  in  the  name  of  a  blind 
fatality.  That  is  to  say,  they  have  a  general  and  honest 
enough  wish  that  their  children  might  be  found  on  the 
side  of  goodness  ;  but  they  fail  to  see  that  the  work  of 
putting  them  there  is  a  business  of  their  own.  They 
have  not  given  up  the  hope  that  their  offspring  may  turn 
out  well;  but  they  leave  the  sacred,  slow,  responsible 
toil  of  making  it  turn  out  so  untouched.  They  answer 
to  your  surprise  with  some  vicious  maxim  about  all 
children  being  obliged  to  go  through  a  period  of  insub 
ordination,  and  knowing  the  world,  —  which  commonly 


CHILDREN, HOW    TO    BE    RECEIVED.  201 

means  knowing  everything  that  is  worst  in  the  world. 
They  trust  to  accident.  They  hand  over  their  own 
children's  immortal  purity  and  welfare,  like  pagans,  to 
luck.  At  this  terrible  life-and-death  encounter  between 
a  young  soul  and  perdition,  they,  the  parents,  are  only 
to  look  on !  At  that  mortal  struggle  they  are  idle  spec 
tators  !  Everything  else  they  have  done,  or  are  willing 
to  do,  for  their  child,  everything  save  taking  up,  with  ear 
nest  and  ardent  purpose,  his  spiritual  nurture  and  his 
Christian  salvation.  The  utmost  they  can  give  be 
sides  clothes,  board,  spending-money,  and  schooling,  is 
an  occasional  moral  reflection,  or  an  introduction  to  the 
minister,  or  a  few  months  of  irregular  attendance  at 
Sunday-school,  and  possibly  the  birthday  present  of  a 
Bible  with  a  clasp,  which  no  example  of  their  own  en 
courages  him  to  open.  Systematic,  patient,  persisting, 
entreating,  prayerful  nurture  of  the  undying  spirit, — 
there  is  none.  Yet  is  there  one  of  you  all  that  can 
deny  that  this  training  of  the  soul  is  infinitely  the  most 
weighty  and  solemn  of  all  duties  to  the  child  ?  Why 
do  you  not  receive  him,  then,  in  the  name  of  Christ  ? 

But,  praise  Heaven !  there  is  another  class  ;  and  there 
is  no  cause,  in  nature  or  reason,  but  only  in  our  dull  and 
sluggish  hearts,  why  it  should  not  come  to  include  all 
the  others.  The  Master  has  shown  us  a  more  excellent 
way.  That  other  name,  the  only  one  under  heaven 
whereby  we  can  be  saved,  is  given  us.  Bring  the  chil 
dren,  says  the  Saviour,  unto  me.  He  that  receiveth 
them  in  my  name,  receiveth  me.  What,  then,  is  includ 
ed  in  that  Christian  treatment  of  the  young,  as  before 
God  and  his  Church  ? 

First,  that,  having  yourselves  been  joined  to  Christ 
by  repentance  and  faith,  you  hold  and  treat  them  as  the 


202  CHILDREN, HOW    TO    BE    RECEIVED. 

rightful  heirs  of  a  spiritual  life  in  yourselves.  You  have 
more  to  transmit  to  them  than  your  constitutional  tem 
perament,  your  property,  and  your  name.  "When  God 
permitted  you  to  be  parents  of  living  children,  he  bound 
you,  by  a  law  that  admits  no  escape,  to  breathe  into 
them  a  higher  life  than  that  of  the  body  or  the  mind, 
even  that  spiritual  life  whereof  all  make  themselves  par 
takers  who  heartily  believe  in  the  Son  of  God.  And 
this  goes  out  of  you  by  other  means  than  formal  speech. 
Let  it  be  in  you,  and  it  must  emanate,  by  unconscious 
waves  of  influence,  from  look  and  voice  and  attitude,  and 
all  the  countless  and  nameless  tokens  of  parental  faith. 
What  ordained  preacher  has  the  power  of  a  Christian 
mother  ?  I  have  been  told,  that,  in  the  wonderful  and 
gracious  experiments  made  in  our  times  for  kindling  up 
a  little  light  even  in  the  darkness  of  idiocy,  the  first  ray 
of  intelligence  that  is  observed  to  gleam  across  the  im 
becile's  vacant  face,  and  the  first  pulse  of  feeling  strong 
enough  to  overmaster  furious  passions  and  arrest  the 
wandering  eyes,  are  commonly  observed  to  appear  when 
some  gentle  touch  or  tone  of  womanly  kindness  rekin 
dles  in  the  heart  the  flickering  and  faint  impressions  of 
a  mother's  tenderness.  Could  any  proof  more  striking 
show  us  what  lips,  what  countenance,  whose  plead 
ings  and  intercessions,  ought  first  to  dedicate  the  child 
to  holiness  and  the  Holy  One  ?  Even  the  old  Romans, 
in  their  heathenism,  had  a  touching  superstition  of  holding 
the  face  of  the  new-born  infant  upward  to  the  heavens, 
—  signifying,  by  thus  presenting  its  forehead  to  the  stars, 
that  it  was  to  look  above  the  world  into  celestial  glories. 
The  goddess  that  was  supposed  to  preside  over  this  as 
piring  ceremony  was  named  from  the  word  "  levare" 
which  means  "to  raise  aloft."  It  was  a  superstition  then. 


CHILDREN, HOW    TO    BE    RECEIVED.  203 

Christianity  dispels  the  fable  and  the  doubt,  and  gives 
us  the  clear  realization  of  that  dim,  pagan  yearning,  in  a 
Christian  baptism  and  training.  What  shall  be  said  of 
those  nominally  Christian  parents  who  do  not  discover 
even  the  heathen's  sensibility,  —  and,  with  all  the  blessed 
ordinances  of  the  Son  of  Mary  in  their  sight,  content 
with  low  and  earthly  satisfactions,  refuse  to  their  chil 
dren  even  the  Church's  benediction  ? 

Again,  the  spiritual  obligation  involved  in  receiving  a 
child  in  the  name  of  Christ  requires  that  you  esteem  him, 
even  in  his  childhood,  as  a  sharer  with  yourself  in  a  Di 
vine  covenant.  He  is  to  be  sheltered  under  that  sacred 
promise,  reaching  down  from  Abraham  through  all  dis 
pensations,  by  which  the  Heavenly  Father  admits  the  off 
spring  of  all  believing  and  faithful  disciples  to  the  same 
secret  privileges  with  their  parents,  —  provided  only  they 
will  consent.  This  makes  the  title  to  Christian  citizen 
ship  hereditary.  It  rests  with  the  voluntary  consent  of 
the  child,  when  he  is  free  to  choose  or  to  reject,  to  ratify 
and  confirm  the  baptismal  pledge  which  the  parents  made 
in  his  behalf;  above  all,  it  rests  with  the  parent  to  follow 
up  the  sprinkling  of  water  with  daily  and  devout  instruc 
tion  in  divine  knowledge,  —  line  upon  line,  precept  upon 
precept.  These  things  being  insured,  God  is  not  forget 
ful  of  his  promise,  nor  will  he  leave  faithful  servants  to 
strive  alone.  Keep  that  promise  ever  before  your  bap 
tized  child's  eyes.  There  will  be  sanctity  in  its  encour 
agement  and  power  in  its  restraint. 

Yet  further,  God  requires  us  to  regard  our  children  as 
an  element  in  our  judgment.  We  shall  meet  them  again. 
Face  to  face  we  shall  ah1  stand,  when  the  books  are 
opened.  No  daysman  can  come  in  between  us  and  the 
spirits  that  have  been  ripened  in  our  care.  Their  souls 


204  CHILDREN, HOW    TO    BE    RECEIVED. 

will  be  required  at  our  hands.  These  broken  circles  will 
have  one  reassembling  more ;  and  there  the  Judge  will 
make  that  awful  inquisition,  from  which  no  parental 
heart  will  be  allowed  to  shrink  back.  There  the  question 
ing  will  be,  In  whose  name  received  ye  the  immortal 
ones  ?  In  the  name  of  money  ?  in  the  name  of  worldly 
success  ?  or  of  selfish  joy  ?  or  of  a  careless  unconcern  ? 
or  in  the  name  of  Christ  ?  And  whosoever  has  received 
them  in  the  name  of  Christ,  "  he,"  saith  Christ,  "  hath  re 
ceived  me  "  ;  and  that  sentence  is  his  everlasting  reward. 

And  now,  do  any  of  us  ask  what  constitutes  the  true 
Christian  fidelity  of  parents,  and  what  is  the  method  of 
this  high  duty  ?  Let  us  remember  to  ask  that  question 
of  Him  who  alone  is  the  Guide.  He  answers  it  by  his 
Word ;  he  will  answer  it,  even  more  and  more  clearly, 
to  the  sincerely  seeking  heart.  These  simple  truths  we 
know,  and  may  affirm  confidently. 

There  must  be  prayer.  Your  child  must  know,  he 
must  see,  he  must  feel,  that  between  your  parent-heart 
and  Him  who  is  the  Infinite  Father  of  all  alike,  there  is 
open  and  conscious  communion.  Till  there  is  estab 
lished,  in  all  simplicity,  this  confiding  and  daily  inter 
course  between  the  soul  and  Heaven,  you  have  not 
received  your  child  in  the  name  of  Christ.  What  was 
testified  by  one  of  the  strong  statesmen  of  our  early 
American  history,  might  be  declared,  in  spirit,  probably 
by  nearly  all  the  best  men  that  have  lived  in  Christen 
dom.  "  I  believe,"  he  said,  "  that  I  should  have  been 
swept  away  by  the  flood  of  French  infidelity,  if  it  had 
not  been  for  one  thing,  —  the  remembrance  of  the  time 
when  my  sainted  mother  used  to  make  me  kneel  by  her 
bedside,  taking  my  little  hands  folded  in  hers,  and  caus 
ing  me  to  repeat  the  Lord's  Prayer." 


CHILDREN, HOW    TO    BE    RECEIVED.  205 

But  the  whole  work,  or  privilege,  of  Christian  culture 
for  the  child  is  by  no  means  to  be  handed  over  to  the 
mother.  That  has  been  too  much  the  fashion  with  men. 
When  did  God  excuse  fathers  ?  Where  is  the  permis 
sion  for  one  parent  to  add  to  the  necessary  hours  of  ab 
sence  from  home,  at  his  business,  an  evening  at  the  bil 
liard-room  or  a  Sunday  in  the  country?  In  order  to 
the  full  and  right  influence  in  forming  the  child's  char 
acter  into  holiness,  both  sides  are  wanting;  God  asks 
the  Christian  father  as  much  as  the  Christian  mother; 
the  Apostles  adjure  the  father  oftenest.  Buxtorf  tells  us, 
the  Jewish  fathers  held  themselves  responsible  for  the 
guilt  of  their  children's  sins  till  they  were  thirteen  years 
old.  In  that  great  reckoning  at  which  we  have  already 
glanced,  the  Divine  voice  will  question  with  both  alike ; 
nor  does  the  Lord  say  of  either  one  alone,  of  woman 
more  than  man,  that  whosoever  receiveth  the  child  in 
his  name,  receiveth  him. 

Moreover,  there  must  be  regular  biblical  teaching.  No 
child  is  received  in  Christ's  name,  that  is  not  reverently 
and  carefully  taught  Christ's  Gospel:  Somewhere  and 
somehow,  not  by  chance,  not  at  interrupted  and  infre 
quent  seasons,  but  patiently,  and  humbly,-  and  week  by 
week,  that  wonderful,  most  ancient  and  Eternal  Book 
must  be  opened  before  him.  Its  sublime  yet  simple 
truths,  plain  to  the  child's  understanding,  its  holy  person 
ages,  its  grand  Prophets  and  ardent  Apostles,  its  vener 
able  patriarchs  and  its  inspired  children,  must  all  pass, 
in  their  robes  of  light  and  forms  of  singular  majesty  and 
beauty,  before  him.  Its  psalms  must  be  sung  into  his 
soul.  Its  beatitudes  and  commandments  must  be  fixed 
in  his  remembrance.  Its  parables  must  engage  his 
fancy.  Its  miracles  must  awe  his  wonder.  .  Its  cross, 

18 


206  CHILDREN, HOW    TO    BE    RECEIVED. 

and  ark,  and  all  its  sacred  emblems,  must  people  his 
imagination.  Without  that  Bible,  no  child  born  among 
us  can  come  to  Him  whom  only  the  Bible  reveals. 

Then  there  must  be  a  distinct  Christian  purpose,  pen 
etrating  the  household,  elevating  the  whole  spirit  of  the 
home,  and  evermore  resisting  temptation.  There  is  a 
fable,  in  German  literature,  of  the  daughter  of  an  Erl- 
king  whose  business  it  is  to  tempt  little  children  away 
from  parents  and  home.  She  comes  even  into  the  par 
ents'  presence,  and  there,  with  fair  appearance  and  cun 
ning  disguises,  she  deceives  them  in  her  malignant  pur 
pose,  contriving  to  whisper  into  the  ear  of  the  unsuspect 
ing  one  many  an  artful  promise  of  fine  shows  and  happy 
plays.  And  thus  at  last  she  wiles  away  victim  after  vic 
tim  into  a  dreary  land,  in  the  midst  of  dark  and  shadowy 
forests.  Do  we  not  all  know  of  something  answering 
to  this  crafty  child-thief?  Temptation  is  the  Erlking's 
daughter  that  never  dies.  She  tears  away  children  from 
the  blessed  peace  of  their  Father's  house,  —  from  virtue, 
from  happiness,  from  heaven.  You,  parents,  must  be 
watching,  or  before  you  are  aware  your  beloved  ones 
will  be  caught  and  carried  into  the  wilderness. 

And  finally,  knowing  well  how  little  is  the  most  our 
weak  arms  can  do,  and  how  infinite  are  the  appointed 
mercies  of  our  God,  we  are  to  bring  our  little  ones,  as 
we  are  to  come  ourselves,  to  the  fountain's  brink,  —  to 
the  great  streams  of  spiritual  benediction  and  grace  that 
flow  down  through  the  channels  of  the  Church,  —  to  the 
baptismal  font,  —  and,  if  only  their  own  free-will  shall  af 
terwards  consent,  to  the  table  and  love-feast  of  our  Lord. 
Come  first  yourselves.  For  where  the  waters  of  purifi 
cation  and  renewal  are  poured,  there  the  forgiving  voice 
speaks;  and  where  strength  is  gained  by  communion, 


CHILDREN, HOW    TO    BE    RECEIVED.  207 

there  is  the  entering  in  of  a  peace  never  known  besides. 
"The  just  man"  not  only  "walketh  in  his  integrity"; 
"  his  children  are  blessed  after  him."  May  the  great 
Shepherd  gather  us  all,  us  and  our  little  ones,  the  fa 
thers,  the  mothers,  the  children,  into  his  immortal  fold ; 
out  of  the  far  country  of  a  wilful  and  worldly  and  alien 
ated  life,  into  the  Church  on  earth,  into  the  larger 
Church,  the  household  undivided  and  everlasting  in 
heaven ! 


SERMON    XV. 

ENTRANCE  INTO  THE  CHURCH. 


AND   CRISPUS   BELIEVED   ON   THE   LORD,  WITH  ALL  HIS   HOUSE. — 

Acts  xviii.  8. 


THE  Christian  faith  is  shown  to  us,  in  the  Acts  of 
the  Apostles,  working  out  its  first  simple  developments 
in  human  society.  In  that  plain  picture,  we  see  how 
this  new  force,  this  divine  idea,  behaved  itself  in  the 
world  of  living  men,  and  women,  and  children  ;  how 
it  acted  on  them,  and  laid  hold  of  them ;  how  it 
took  possession  of  them,  and  organized  them  into  a 
peculiar  institution,  which  has  lived  on  ever  since,  —  the 
Church.  Christ's  visible  presence  is  withdrawn  out  of 
the  world  at  his  resurrection ;  but  thenceforth  he  ap 
pears  to  mankind  in  the  living  body  of  his  Church, 
which,  holding  in  its  heart  and  its  hand  his  Spirit 
and  his  Word,  takes  the  place  of  his  physical  form.  And 
now,  from  this  short  statement  I  have  just  read  about 
one  of  the  first  converts,  in  the  earliest  record  of  Church 
history,  we  catch  a  glimpse  into  the  practical  working 
of  the  system.  It  appears  that  persons  came  into  the 
Church,  not  only  as  separate  individuals,  but  by  families. 
From  this,  as  well  as  several  other  passages,  we  find,  that 
when  the  parents,  or  heads  of  households,  became  Chris- 


ENTRANCE    INTO    THE    CHURCH.  209 

tian  believers,  so  did  their  children.  All  were  baptized  to 
gether.  So,  in  one  place,  we  read  of  "  the  church  which 
is  in  the  house  of  Nyrnphas "  ;  showing  that  such  a 
group  of  believers,  comprising  parents  and  their  children, 
might  constitute  a  church  of  itself.*  How  much  beauty 
and'  sanctity  there  would  be  in  such  a  spectacle,  —  a 
church  in  each  house,  —  and  how  mightily  the  world 
would  gain  in  Christian  order,  purity,  and  power,  if  it 
were  generally  realized,  you  can  readily  imagine.  It 
corresponds  to  the  whole  sentiment  of  revelation,  in  all 
the  stages  of  its  progress.  The  covenant  made  with  the 
Patriarch  was  made  with  Abraham  and  his  seed  after 
him.  Throughout  the  Mosaic  period,  children  were  in 
cluded  with  their  fathers  in  all  the  blessings  of  the  elder 
Testament.  "  The  promise  is  unto  you  and  your  chil 
dren"  is  the  constant  doctrine  through  all  God's  messa 
ges  to  the  Israelites.  We  are  expressly  told,  that  undei 
Christ,  in  the  New  Testament,  the  same  covenant  is 
renewed,  only  expanded  and  deepened.  Throughout, 
the  law  of  descent  is  carefully  respected.  The  hered 
itary  tie  is  recognized.  Offspring,  at  birth,  are  sup 
posed  to  be  bound  up  in  the  same  bond  of  Christian 
privileges  and  helps  which  encircles  their  believing  pro 
genitors.  Does  our  practice,  in  our  modern  churches, 
imply  that  this  is  our  belief? 

From  time  to  time  you  have  heard  affirmed  and  re 
affirmed  this  view  of  the  birth-relation  of  children  born 
of  Christian  parents  to  the  Church,  especially  in  those 
bearings  of  it  which  relate  to  the  administration  of  the 

*  Irenoeus,  of  the  first  age  after  the  apostolic,  referring  to  the  adminis 
tration  of  baptism,  says  :  "  Christ  came  to  save  all  persons  by  himself,  who 
by  him  are  regenerated  to  God,  —  infants,  and  little  ones,  and  children,  and 
youths,  and  elder  persons." 
18* 


210  ENTRANCE  INTO  THE  CHURCH. 

ordinances,  —  Baptism  and  the  Lord's  Supper.  The 
same  idea  seems  to  have  been  received,  with  different 
degrees  of  clearness,  in  former  periods.  It  was  distinctly 
declared  by  many  of  the  early  theological  teachers,  by 
whom  God  planted  his  Church  in  New  England,  and  it 
has  found,  more  recently,  a  few  earnest  advocates  ;  but 
hardly  anywhere  anything  like  a  real  adoption  into  prac 
tice,  so  as  to  present  a  church  formed  after  its  plan. 
If  what  I  have  just  said  be  tenable,  then  it  has  these 
weighty  and  decisive  testimonies,  for  all  Christian 
minds,  in  its  justification  :  first,  the  undeniable  usage 
of  the  apostolic  age,  —  the  purest,  because  the  nearest 
to  the  Master ;  secondly,  the  explicit  sanction  of  the 
authority  of  the  New  Testament  on  the  matter ;  and 
thirdly,  the  analogy  and  agreement  of  the  Old  Testa 
ment,  reaching  back  to  the  primitive  era,  disclosing 
God's  whole  design  for  the  saving  of  the  world,  as  it 
opens  and  ripens  from  Abraham,  or  Adam  rather,  to 
Jesus  of  Nazareth. 

My  object  at  present  is  not  only  to  remind  you  afresh 
of  the  important  place  held  by  this  great  truth  in  refer 
ence  to  your  personal  and  domestic  welfare,  but  to  trace 
it  out  into  its  necessary  connections  with  the  whole 
position  and  constitution  of  the  Church,  —  inquiring, 
with  you,  what  the  Christian  Church  is  ;  how  entrance 
is  got  into  it;  and  what  are  its  claims,  functions,  and 
privileges.  Of  course,  I  must  confine  myself,  with  a 
scope  so  wide,  to  compressed  statements  merely,  leaving 
trains  of  argument  and  illustrations  aside.  I  wish  it 
might  be  particularly  understood,  that,  so  far  from  deal 
ing  with  matters  that  have  no  application  to  any  but 
those  who  are  church-members  already,  I  address  my 
self  especially  to  those  who  have  taken  no  part  in 


ENTRANCE    INTO    THE    CHURCH.  211 

any  public  profession,  and  do  not  share  in  the  com 
munion  which  is  the  common  token  and  privilege  of 
members. 

I.  What  is  the  Church  ?  On  the  authority  of  the 
New  Testament,  I  say  it  is  the  body  of  persons  who 
believe  in  Jesus  Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  and  Saviour  of 
men,  crucified  and  risen ;  and  so  believe  in  him  as  to  be 
personally  conscious  of  a  supreme  desire  to  live  his  spirit 
ual  life,  to  resemble  him,  and  be  his  true  redeemed  dis 
ciples.  This  definition  takes  the  whole  qualification  for 
church-membership  out  of  the  power  of  sects  and  exter 
nal  ceremonies,  lodging  it  in  the  internal  region  of  the 
heart,  —  among  the  affections  and  motives,  —  whence 
all  life  makes  its  way  out  into  speech,  profession,  and 
conduct.  Its  only  test,  therefore,  is  spiritual,  not  formal. 
The  definition  also  proposes  terms  that  are  strict,  with 
out  being  absurd,  and  reasonable,  without  being  lax.  It 
requires  that  the  purpose  to  be  a  Christian,  within  and 
without,  shall  be  supreme  over  all  other  purposes,  — 
take  precedence  in  every  deliberate  choice,  and  express 
itself  in  prayer  and  in  righteousness.  Love  to  God  as 
manifest  in  Christ,  and  love  to  man  as  God's  child,  must 
be  the  ruling  affections  in  the  soul, — whether  they  have 
conformed  the  character  perfectly  to  them,  or  not.  The 
Church  is  the  aggregate  of  these  consecrated  souls,  aim 
ing  and  longing,  above  all  things,  to  live  righteously ;  ir 
respective  of  names,  of  forms,  of  creeds,  of  age,  of  place, 
except  so  far  as  these  affect  this  internal,  central  conse 
cration  to  Christ.  If  there  were  only  "  two  or  three  " 
such  persons  in  the  world,  they  would  be  a  church,  and 
Christ,  fulfilling  his  promise,  would  be  there  in  the  midst 
of  them.  In  all  periods  since  Christ  ascended,  this  has 
been  the  Church.  It  is  distinct  from  all  other  bodies,  — 


212  ENTRANCE    INTO    THE    CHURCH. 

whether  scientific,  civil,  educational,  benevolent,  moral, 
or  even  religious,  if  they  are  not  religious  after  the  way 
and  Gospel  of  Christ.  Its  boundaries,  as  it  is  embodied 
in  actual  persons,  may  be  indistinct  to  man's  eye,  but 
they  are  plain  to  God's  ;  and  the  definition  is  plain. 
The  Church  is  that  body  of  people,  in  whatever  age  or 
nation,  of  which  Christ  is  literally  and  spiritually  the 
Head.  And  any  one  particular  church,  here  or  there,  is 
a  smaller  collection  of  such  people,  and  so  a  branch  of 
the  Church  Universal. 

II.  How,  then,  does  any  individual  enter  into  this 
Church,  so  as  to  become  a  member  of  it,  enjoying  the 
privileges  and  incurring  the  responsibilities  of  a  mem 
ber  ?  I  answer,  By  conversion.  This  is  for  all  those 
who  have  been  living  any  time  outside  of  the  Church, 
—  that  is,  without  the  supreme  purpose  I  have  spoken 
of,  —  without  a  conscious  dedication  to  holiness,  with 
out  treating  Jesus  Christ,  in  heart  and  life,  as  Lord  and 
Master.  ALL  such  must  obviously  be  regenerated,  be 
fore  they  can  be  in  or  of  the  Church.  Hitherto  they 
have  been  living  only  that  natural  life,  whose  ruling 
motives  are  mere  selfish  instincts,  whose  appetites  and 
passions  were  not  subjected  to  conscience,  whose  bet 
ter  traits  were  spontaneous  and  irregular,  not  having 
taken  on  the  character  of  principle,  and  whose  exter 
nal  proprieties  were  the  result  only  of  some  form  of 
worldly  interest  or  policy.  In  all  such  persons,  there 
must  be  a  new  birth  of  Christian  conviction.  There 
must  be  a  sincere  penitence  for  this  sinful  habit,  which 
has  disobeyed  and  denied  God's  commandment.  There 
must  be  a  holy  heart,  with  prayer  in  it,  created  by  re 
generation  and  washing  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  There  must 
be  a  turning  about  from  the  old,  false  direction,  which  led 


ENTRANCE    INTO    THE    CHURCH.  213 

away  from  Christ,  to  the  opposite,  which  sets  the  face 
towards  him.  Whether  slow  or  swift,  —  and  it  certainly 
cannot  be  too  swift  nor  too  early,  and  the  earlier  the 
easier,  —  this  conversion  is  indispensable.  We  see  many 
instances  of  it  in  the  New  Testament.  In  those  early 
times,  it  commonly  involved  a  change  of  the  mind  as 
well  as  of  the  heart;  that  is,  a  Pagan  or  a  Jew  must 
change  the  whole  opinion  of  his  head  respecting  religion, 
as  well  as  the  love  and  motive  in  his  heart.  His  nomi 
nal  and  intellectual  belief  must  undergo  a  revolution. 
Accordingly,  to  describe  this  transfer  from  one  scheme  to 
another,  we  find  the  terms  "conversion,"  and  " believing 
on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,"  used  in  the  New  Testament 
synonymously  and  interchangeably.  Now  there  may  be 
cases  among  us  of  the  same  radical  and  mental  change 
as  with  all  heathens,  Jews,  Mahometans.  But  other 
wise,  and  where,  as  with  most  of  us,  there  is  no  men 
tal  dissent  from  the  evidences  and  truths  of  Christianity, 
the  conversion  wanted  is  only  that  of  the  heart,  giv 
ing  that  up  to  Christ.  Then  the  individual  can  clearly 
say,  I  have  resolved,  God's  grace  helping,  to  be  a  Chris 
tian  disciple.  And  whenever  that  is  really  done,  the 
soul  truly  becomes  invisibly  united  to  Christ,  and  so,  of 
course,  is  virtually  a  member  of  his  body  or  Church. 

But  souls  may  also  come  into  a  certain  relation  to 
Christ's  Church  by  spiritual  adoption.  And  all  those,  I 
maintain,  are  subjects  for  this,  who  are  born  of  believing 
parents,  or  parents  who  are  members  in  it.  If  they  dis 
cover  from  the  first  no  repugnance  to  holiness,  no  settled 
alienation  from  Christ,  but  appear  to  have  had  the  re 
newing  work  of  the  Spirit  wrought  upon  them  in  a 
steady  and  early  grace,  so  that  they  seem  "  sanctified 
from  the  womb,"  they  pass  into  Christ's  Church  as 


214  ENTRANCE  INTO  THE  CHURCH. 

they  pass  into  a  self-conscious  experience.  By  this  I 
mean  that  all  children  so  born  are  to  be  received  into 
the  arms  of  their  parents,  and  treated  as  the  sacred 
property  of  the  Church.  The  Church  lays  claim  to 
them,  from  the  very  outset,  as  her  own.  Her  pre 
sumption  and  prayer  for  them  is  that  they  will  walk 
from  their  childhood  in  newness  of  life.  She  sets  the 
sign  of  that  belief  and  hope.  Properly  trained  up,  by 
spiritual  teaching  and  example,  under  the  blessing  of  the 
Spirit,  they  are  never  to  know  of  a  time  when  they  were 
not  included  in  God's  covenant  of  promise.  Instead  of 
being  cast  out,  as  little  aliens,  to  run  wild  awhile  in  the 
world,  having  no  part  nor  lot  in  the  blessed  Christian 
shelter  and  inheritance,  they  are  to  be  always  folded  in 
side  that  security.  The  Church  is  to  come  forward,  in 
the  person  of  those  parents  who  are  its  members,  —  the 
divinely  and  naturally  appointed  guardians  of  these 
young  souls,  —  and  thus  press  them  to  its  own  gracious 
bosom,  and  feed  them  on  its  own  heavenly  truth ;  until 
such  time  as  they  are  old  enough,  by  their  own  conscious 
and  personal  responsible  act,  to  confirm  the  covenant 
which  their  parents  and  the  Church  made  for  them  in 
their  infancy,  by  openly  espousing  the  membership.  For 
I  do  not  overlook  the  dreadful  possibility,  that,  in  the 
stress  of  temptation,  and  a  depraved  inclination,  the 
child,  even  when  all  this  has  been  done  for  him,  may 
wander  off  and  be  a  prodigal.  He  may  viciously  disown 
the  covenant  made  in  his  behalf.  He  may  plunge  into 
sin,  in  despite  of  all.  Then  his  only  way  back  into  the 
Church  of  Christ  must  be  by  conversion,  as  with  the 
children  of  unbelievers.  All  I  say  is,  that  such  instances 
ought  to  be  prevented  or  diminished  by  wiser  and  more 
Christian  notions  and  practices.  Let  the  Christian  par- 


ENTRANCE    INTO    THE    CHURCH.  215 

ents  continually  speak  to  the  young  child  of  Church  priv 
ileges,  of  the  joy  and  the  duty  of  his  Christian  heritage 
and  home.  Let  that  child  have  the  doctrines  and  life  of 
Christ  faithfully  instilled  into  his  soul,  by  domestic  in 
struction  and  family  prayer.  Let  him  be  reminded  of 
his  baptismal  dedication,  and  taught  to  live  worthily  of 
it.  No  magical,  talismanic  effect  is  thus  to  be  wrought 
upon  him,  but  a  perfectly  natural  and  simple  one,  stand 
ing  in  harmony  with  all  other  educational  influences,  and 
guaranteed  also  a  peculiar  blessing.  This  Christian 
child,  like  others,  must  have  a  spiritual  nature  and  life 
formed  upon  him,  in  addition  to  his  natural  life.  Only, 
this  blessed  boon  of  a  new  and  holy  heart  steals  in  upon 
him  gradually,  by  way  of  his  parents'  eyes  and  voice  and 
prayers,  from  the  very  dawn  of  his  consciousness,  grows 
with  his  growth,  hardens  with  his  muscles,  expands  with 
his  understanding,  and  matures  in  him  as  gently  and  reg 
ularly  as  any  of  the  growths  of  the  forest  or  the  field ;  so 
that  there  shall  be  no  period  in  his  remembrance,  when 
he  was  not  moving  straight  on  towards  a  ripe  Christian 
character,  and  full  communion  in  the  Church.  All  this 
I  place  in  contrast  with  our  strange  and  savage  habit  of 
turning  off.  our  little  ones  to  feed  on  the  husks  and  chaff 
of  the  senses,  till  some  dreadful  wrench  of  sorrow,  after 
they  have  grown  up,  possibly  wakens  a  few  of  them  to 
conviction,  and  drives  them  back,  broken-spirited,  from 
the  far  country  where  they  had  wandered,  to  their  Fa 
ther's  house. 

III.  This  brings  me  on,  as  the  next  step,  to  the  place  and 
the  meaning  of  Baptism.  The  value  of  that  ordinance 
is  sufficiently  attested  throughout  the  New  Testament. 
Christ  himself,  notwithstanding  his  divine  elevation,  sub 
mitted  himself  to  it  that  he  might  fulfil  all  righteousness. 


216  ENTRANCE  INTO  THE  CHURCH. 

So  early  as  his  conversation  with  Nicodemus,  while  he 
was  announcing  the  grand  principles  of  his  new  kingdom, 
he  spoke  of  the  new  birth  as  requiring  both  the  Spirit  and 
water.  He  enjoined  its  universal  observance,  through 
the  Church  of  all  nations,  in  his  last  charge  to  his  disci 
ples.  By  studying  the  design  of  it  in  other  parts  of  the 
New  Testament,  we  can  come  to  only  one  .understand 
ing  of  its  object.  Everywhere  it  signified  the  entrance  of 
the  subject  of  it  into  the  Church  of  Christ.  It  was  the 
outward  sign  of  that  single  fact,  —  the  beginning  of  the 
Christian  life.  It  was  applied  to  adults  and  children  in 
discriminately  ;  for  we  read  of  whole  households  baptized. 
Whenever  any  person  was  converted,  that  is,  became  a 
true  believer  in  Christ,  young  or  old,  he  was  baptized ; 
and  that  was  the  only  ceremony  of  admission  into  the 
Church.  After  baptism  he  communed,  as  a  matter  of 
course.  According  to  the  convenience  of  climate,  and 
the  usage  of  the  Oriental  nations,  this  baptism  was  doubt 
less  by  the  immersion  of  the  whole  body.  But,  obviously 
enough,  what  the  Spirit  sought,  as  a  means  of  outward 
order  and  general  benefit,  was  simply  the  outward  appli 
cation  of  water,  and  not  the  quantity  of  it. 

With  what  understanding,  then,  may  a  Christian  min 
ister  administer  the  rite  of  baptism  now  ?  I  answer,  it 
must  be  according  to  one  of  the  three  following  modes :  — 

1.  Baptism  may  be  applied,  according  to  the  whole 
Scriptural  doctrine  I  have  been  opening,  to  the  children 
of  believers  in  communion  with  Christ's  Church.  In  that 
case,  the  ordinance  is  the  outward  sign  and  seal  that  the 
children,  who  receive  it,  follow  the  organic  law  of  their 
parents,  and  are  the  rightful  property  of  the  Church.  The 
Church  comes  forward,  and  stretches  out  her  arms,  with 
holy  sprinkling,  to  claim  and  bless  the  new-born  immor- 


ENTRANCE    INTO    THE    CHURCH.  217 

tal.  The  parents  engage,  for  the  offspring,  the  blessings 
of  the  same  covenant  that  covers  themselves.  Parental 
love,  if  it  is  Christian,  cannot  do  less.  To  refuse  would 
really  be  worse  than  the  unnaturalness  of  disowning  them; 
for,  in  the  latter  case,  they  are  only  turned  out  of  the 
earthly  home  ;  in  the  former,  out  of  God's  spiritual  home, 
and  denied  tjie  saving  nurture  of  the  Christian  family. 
Baptism  is  here  put,  where  the  New  Testament  puts  it, 
at  the  beginning  of  the  Christian  life.  For,  as  the  adult 
convert  begins  that  life  at  his  conversion,  so  the  child  of 
believers  is  presumed  to  begin  it  at  his  birth.  Baptism 
signifies  a  faithful  hope  that  the  child  will  grow  up  a 
Christian,  and  a  reverent  trust  that  the  regenerating  spirit 
may  already  be  descending  upon  him.  This  kind  of 
baptism  is  so  clearly  the  right  kind,  that  we  must  long 
for  the  time  when  there  shall  be  no  occasion  for  any 
other. 

2.  Baptism  may  be  applied  to  persons  who  have  ad 
vanced  some  way  into  their  natural  life,  not  baptized  in 
their    childhood,    and   now   resolved   to   be    of   Christ's 
Church,    because    they   are   regenerated,   or    Christian- 
minded.     Here,  exactly  as  before,  the  rite  marks  the  be 
ginning  of  the  Christian  life  :  only  that  beginning  lies  at 
a  later  point  in  the  person's  history.     Here  the  act  is  a 
self-dedication,  —  the    individual    who    comes   into   the 
Church  thus  doing  for  himself  what  no  Christian  parent 
did  for  him.     So  far,  all  is  consistent  and  obvious. 

3.  But  there  is  a  third  class.     Parents  who  have  never 
manifested  a  desire  to  be  of  Christ's"  Church  themselves, 
nor  openly  avowed  discipleship,  seek  to  have  their  chil 
dren  baptized.     When  this  request  is  granted,  if  the  fore 
going  positions  are  sound,  it  must  be  on  one  of  two  un 
derstandings  :  either  that  these  parents,  though  not  avow- 

19 


218 


ENTRANCE  INTO  THE  CHURCH. 


edly  church-members,  are  so  earnestly  possessed  of  the 
spirit  of  Christian  piety  and  of  all  Christian  purposes, 
that  they  are  approved  believers  in  the  sight  of  the  Great 
Head  of  the  Church,  and  so  members  of  the  Church  in 
visible,  —  which  would  always  be  the  supposition  most 
grateful  to  entertain  ;  or  else,  where  this  presumption 
is  inevitably  excluded,  the  ceremony  must  be  another 
thing,  —  an  act  of  pious  intention,  a  consecration,  per 
haps,  not  without  salutary  impressions,  springing  from  a 
thoughtful  parental  regard,  but  not  the  sign  of  induction 
into  Christ's  body.  Let  this  question  be  remembered, 
however  :  Are  not  parents,  not  being  church  communi 
cants  themselves,  who  provide  baptism  for  their  children, 
bound  to  consider  very  deeply  whether  consistency  does 
not  require  them  to  observe,  in  behalf  of  their  own  souls, 
the  same  veneration  for  ordinances  that  they  profess  in 
behalf  of  their  progeny  ?  And  how  can  they  expect 
these  to  obey  God,  and  belong  to  Christ,  if  they  them 
selves  do  not  go  before  in  the  appointed  way  ? 

IV.  This  brings  us  on  to  consider  the  place  and  sig 
nification  of  communion  at  the  Lord's  Supper.  By  all 
that  has  gone  before,  that  service  is  not  what  makes  any 
of  us  members  in  the  Church,  but  it  is  both  a  privilege 
and  a  duty  consequent  upon  such  membership.  The 
true  formula  would  be,  not,  "  I  commune,  therefore  I  am 
a  church-member  " ;  but,  "  I  am  a  church-member,  there 
fore  I  commune."  What  gives  any  of  you  a  title  to 
participate  at  the  Supper  is  Christian  baptism,  because, 
as  I  have  said,  baptism  is  the  sign  of  the  beginning  of 
the  Christian  life,  whether  administered  in  infancy  in  the  ' 
parental  covenant,  or  afterwards,  on  conviction  and  spir 
itual  renewing.  It  follows,  therefore,  that  all  baptized 
persons  are  privileged  to  be  candidates  for  full  commun- 


ENTRANCE    INTO    THE    CHURCH.  219 

ion  in  the  Church,  whenever  they  will  personally  present 
their  claim. 

At  the  same  time,  they  must  personally  present  it.  It 
is  an  act  wholly  within  their  own  choice  and  responsibil 
ity.  Such  choosing  is  wholesome,  and,  for  a  free  agent, 
quite  necessary.  A  moral  act  done  for  a  child  cannot 
force  or  bind  his  liberty  when  he  grows  up.  The  bap 
tismal  covenant  only  throws  about  him  its  gracious 
influences,  pledges  the  Eternal  Help  in  his  behalf,  and 
welcomes  him  to  the  Saviour's  organized  body.  But  he 
must  be  free  to  live  outside  if  he  will.  This  view  makes 
his  alienation  his  own  act,  and  casts  the  terrible  account 
ability  therefor  011  his  rebellious  violence,  which  tears 
him  away  from  his  home.  His  home,  and  his  belong 
ings,  are  within  his  Father's  house.  On  the  other  hand, 
if  he  will,  as  soon  as  he  is  old  enough  to  understand  and 
weigh  the  matter  for  himself,  come  straight  forward  to 
the  Master's  table,  he  thereby  recognizes,  confirms,  rati 
fies,  for  himself,  —  in  fact,  makes  his  own  act,  —  what 
his  Christian  parents  did  for  him.  His  voluntary  com 
muning  is,  then,  precisely  what  some  Christians  call  it,  a 
confirmation. 

If  we  had  a  definite  and  orderly  system  among  us,  as 
one  must  heartily  wish  on  every  account  we  had,  then  I 
suppose  a  plan  something  like  this  might  be  found  at 
once  perfectly  simple  and  practicable,  and  also  full  of 
most  effective  and  glorious  fruits.  In  every  parish,  by 
every  minister,  let  there  be  kept  a  record  of  all  children 
baptized  into  the  Church.  Each  year,  at  a  stated  and 
convenient  time,  let  the  minister  call  together,  as  a  matter 
of  course,  but  by  personal  and  direct  invitation,  all  such 
young  persons,  so  baptized,  as  have,  within  the  year  pre 
ceding,  reached  a  certain  suitable  age,  —  suppose  fifteen 


220  ENTRANCE    INTO    THE    CHURCH. 

years.  Let  him  bring  them  under  a  brief  course  of 
friendly  and  religious  instruction,  in  addition  to  any 
Sunday-school  or  domestic  teaching,  so  faithfully  remind 
ing  them  of  the  parental  covenant  and  other  obligations, 
and  renewing  in  this  form  the  demand  of  Christ  and  the 
Church,  that  they  come  into  the  fold,  and  stand  pledged 
for  their  Divine  Master  ;  and,  if  proper  dispositions  exist, 
at  the  end  of  such  tuition,  admitting  them.  At  the  same 
time,  let  him  offer  corresponding  instruction  to  all  un- 
baptized  children  ;  striving  thus  for  their  conversion,  or 
spiritual  renewing,  their  baptism  into  the  Church,  and 
their  admission  to  the  Supper.  When  any  family  pass 
from  one  parish  to  another,  let  them  procure  from  the 
one  they  leave  to  the  one  they  join,  a  letter,  signifying 
not  only  the  communicants  among  them,  but  the  names 
and  ages  of  the  baptized  children,  that  they  may  be 
properly  taken  up  and  nurtured  in  their  new  religious 
home.  Who  can  tell  what  noble  and  vital  accessions  of 
holiness  and  strength  the  Church  might  gain,  in  such  an 
ordering  of  her  internal  economy  ?  What  spectacle  can 
be  conceived  more  full  of  moral  beauty  and  promise, 
than  ranks  of  the  young,  thus  early,  and  while  they  need 
the  hallowed  securities  of  faith  most  urgently,  pressing 
straight  forward  into  the  gates  of  the  kingdom,  —  this, 
instead  of  what  we  now  too  often  see,  the  shame  of  our 
Christendom,  and  the  sorrow  of  all  devout  hearts,  name 
ly,  crowds  of  bewildered  and  neglected  youths,  plunging 
fearfully  away,  unguarded,  into  the  perils  and  vices  of 
the  world,  broken  hearts,  and  ruined  hopes,  and  charac 
ters  lost,  lost  beyond  recall  ? 

If  any  are  still  disposed  to  inquire  why  they  should 
commune  at  the  Lord's  Supper,  a  complete  answer  could 
be  given  only  in  much  greater  space  than  is  now  at  my 


ENTRANCE    INTO    THE    CHURCH.  221 

command.  Let  these  simple  reasons  enter  into  your  re 
flections,  and  not  be  dismissed  till  they  are  pondered 
fairly :  —  1.  Because  God,  the  Maker  of  our  frame,  has  so 
shaped  and  colored  the  whole  structure  of  our  being,  that 
there  is  an  exact  adaptation  between  spiritual  life  and 
progress,  and  this  memorial  ordinance.  So  much  is  set 
tled,  by  the  authority  of  his  own  word,  and  by  the  vastly 
accumulating  testimony  of  the  millions  of  believers,  in 
all  the  lengthening  generations  of  the  Church.  The  soul 
and  the  Supper  of  communion  meet  one  another,  and 
are  meant  for  one  another.  2.  Jesus  himself,  the  tender- 
est  friend,  the  dying  Saviour,  the  spotless  sacrifice  "  for 
us  the  unjust,"  the  divine  and  gentle  Lord,  has  enjoined 
it,  under  the  most  impressive  conditions,  on  all  his  fol 
lowers  that  truly  love  him,  —  reason  enough,  to  human 
feeling,  if  every  other  failed.  3.  There  is  a  personal 
satisfaction  resulting  from  it,  —  a  satisfaction  not  real 
ized,  of  course,  to  those  that  have  never  come  where  it  is 
tasted,  but  very  real  and  unspeakably  precious  to  those 
that  have.  4.  It  is  a  testimony  to  the  Divine  cause,  to 
God's  law,  and  Christ's  kingdom  in  the  world ;  and 
when  the  two  opposing  forces,  righteousness  and  sin, 
God  and  mammon,  are  drawn  up  in  as  sharp  and  bitter 
a  warfare  as  they  are  everywhere  about  us  yet,  it  is  cow 
ardly  and  slothful  for  us  not  to  take  open  ground,  on 
the  Lord's  side,  or  on  Satan's.  5.  And  finally,  it  is  a 
means,  almost  unsurpassed,  of  encouraging  and  multi 
plying  holiness,  —  all  the  virtues,  principles,  graces,  char 
ities,  that  elevate  society,  redeem  from  wrong,  brighten, 
bless,  and  sanctify  the  world.  The  Supper,  for  all  who 
partake  of  it,  with  right  preparation,  in  a  right  spirit,  is  a 
mighty  quickener  of  goodness,  a  mighty  guard  against 
temptation.  My  friend,  whoever  you  are,  is  your  path 

19* 


222  ENTRANCE    INTO    THE    CHURCH. 

so  clear  of  danger,  and  your  soul  so  strong  in  its  own 
strength,  that  you  can  afford  to  scorn  the  heavenly  help  ? 

I  know  the  current  objections,  —  as  that  you  are  not 
good  enough.  Judged  by  positive  attainments,  no  man 
or  woman  is  good  enough,  nor  pretends  to  be.  Profes 
sion,  in  that  case,  would  be  arrogant  and  offensive  pre 
sumption.  But,  if  I  understand  the  conditions  of  the 
Gospel,  they  are  sincere  penitence  for  sin,  faith  in  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  a  ruling  desire  to  lead  a  holy 
life,  sustained  by  prayer.  Here  is  no  impracticable  de 
mand,  —  only  a  heart  of  love  and  trust  and  pure  aspira 
tion.  If  you  have  that,  you  are  good  enough  to  commune 
with  Christ,  and  thus  to  grow  better  ;  and  if  you  have  it 
not,  you  are  not  fit  either  to  live  or  to  die. 

As  to  its  being  a  form  :  that  is  the  made-up  objection 
of  only  a  few  fastidious  and  sentimental  persons,  who 
are  not  thoroughly  in  earnest  about  the  matter.  It  is  a 
species  of  cant,  that  reappears  from  time  to  time,  but 
never  has  much  force.  Instead  of  any  special  spiritual 
ity,  the  objectors  to  forms  are  commonly  those  that  have 
too  little  spiritual  life  to  put  life  into  the  forms  God  has 
kindly  provided  as  a  lodge  for  the  Spirit,  and  so  faint 
under  them,  or  stumble  at  them,  and  find  them  mean 
ingless,  instead  of  vitalizing  them.  The  only  real  test  of 
fitness  for  communion  is  a  cordial,  deep,  deliberate  desire, 
or  want,  or  sense  of  need,  of  the  communion.  "  Whoso 
ever  "  so  desires,  and  "  will,  let  him  come,  and  take  of 
the  "  bread  and  the  "  water  of  life  freely." 

Here,  then,  our  course  of  thought  is  finished.  The 
whole  doctrine  is  practical  and  personal.  To  those  who 
are  not  believers,  it  says,  "  Believe,  be  converted,  turn  ye, 
repent,  cast  off  indifference  and  sin,  for  your  own  sake 
and  your  children's."  To  Christian  parents  in  church- 


ENTRANCE    INTO    THE    CHURCH.  223 

communion,  it  says,  "  Bring  in  your  children,  by  bap 
tism,  into  the  dear  Redeemer's  covenant  and  fold,  and 
train  them  up  for  immortal  life."  To  the  young  it  says, 
"  Come,  early,  before  ye  are  weary  and  heavy-laden,  and 
have  the  joy,  the  peace,  the  strength,  of  faith  and  right 
eousness." 

To  all,  it  offers  the  honors  of  the  Church,  the  order  of 
a  reconciled  society,  the  beauty  of  holiness,  and  the  tri 
umphant  hope  of  heaven. 


SERMON     XVI. 

TEIALS    OF    FAITH. 

THE   TRYING   OF  YOUR   FAITH.  —  James  i.   3. 

THE  nature  of  the  thoughts  I  am  to  lay  before  you  is 
such,  that  the  profit  of  our  exercise  will  depend  quite  as 
much  on  your  attention  as  on  my  speaking.  To  yield 
any  satisfaction,  it  requires  patient  study  and  a  silent 
heart.  If  this  is  true,  in  some  degree,  of  all  religious 
themes,  it  is  especially  true  of  one  so  purely  spiritual  in 
its  character,  and  internal  in  its  bearings,  as  the  Trials  of 
Faith. 

On  the  other  hand,  we  shall  be  assisted  by  the  fact 
that  our  topic  touches  personal  interests,  which  are  im 
mediate  and  universal.  In  one  form  or  another,  either 
as  a  pleasure  or  as  a  cross,  either  with  a  welcome  or  by 
compulsion,  either  in  a  calm  mood  or  an  agonized  one, 
every  separate  soul  has  to  come  at  it,  and  deal  with  it. 
For,  at  last,  each  person  of  us  has  to  be  a  sufferer,  has  to 
stand  a  culprit  at  the  bar  of  conscience,  to  be  a  prisoner 
behind  the  iron  grates  of  pain,  to  hold  a  secret  dialogue 
with  Providence. 

The  forms  of  trial  I  shall  bring  before  you  are  those 
that  belong  to  the  commonest  experience.  I  shall  en 
deavor  to  gather  them  into  such  groups  that  they  will  be 


TRIALS    OF    FAITH.  225 

clearly  recognized,  and  yet  will  comprehend  many  varie 
ties  of  situation.  My  arrangement  will  embrace  three 
classes;  trials  in  religious  confidence,  trials  in  human 
affection,  and  trials  in  earthly  hope.  We  are  to  exam 
ine  them  in  the  light  of  the  New  Testament.  We  will 
seek  an  interpretation  of  them,  that  shall  be  in  accord 
ance  with  the  whole  wisdom  of  God,  the  whole  order  of 
his  creation,  and  the  divine  harmony  of  its  laws.  Christ 
is  our  authority  and  guide ;  Christ  the  prophet,  Christ 
himself  the  sufferer,  —  Christ  tempted  like  as  we  are, 
without  sin, —  Christ  taking  our  infirmities  to  lift  us 
above  them,  and  dying  on  a  cross  to  give  humanity  a 
crown  of  life. 

I  think  we  shall  not  find  a  phrase  that  better  describes 
the  real  end  and  purpose  of  our  discipline  in  this  world, 
than  the  one  James  has  given  us :  "  The  trying  of  your 
faith." 

How  very  different  a  color  these  words  cast  over  our 
life,  —  over  our  houses  and  sick-beds,  our  tradings. and 
marriages,  our  bankruptcies  and  funerals,  —  from  most 
of  those  we  hear,  when  men  talk  together  of  the  chief 
business !  Not  to  build  strong  cities  and  roads  and  fac 
tories,  not  to  make  swift  passages  over  oceans,  or  up  to 
fame,  not  to  celebrate  victories  over  the  resistance  of 
matter  and  the  cunning  of  fellow-tradesmen,  not  to  out 
wit  the  elements  of  nature  or  a  neighbor's  policy,  did 
God  put  breath  into  our  bodies,  and  lay  the  world  under 
our  feet,  and  arch  the  heavens  over  our  head,  —  but  to 
multiply  and  prove  our  faith. 

It  takes  a  great  while  for  most  of  us  to  find  it  out. 
Some  of  us  make  out  to  live  without  believing  it,  and 
never  see  it  till  we  die ;  but  none  the  less  it  is  for  this 
we  were  meant  to  live,  and  but  for  this  we  should  not 


226  TRIALS    OF    FAITH. 

need  to  die.  It  is  for  the  trying  of  your  faith  that  your 
will  is  suffered  to  be  free ;  that  limits  are  set  to  your 
strength ;  that  your  desires  outrun  your  ability ;  that 
your  aspiration  transcends  your  performance ;  that  your 
energy  so  often  has  to  droop  its  tired  wings,  and  sink 
back  baffled ;  that  the  flesh  lusteth  against  the  spirit,  and 
your  passions  chafe  against  your  principles. 

It  is  for  the  trying  of  your  faith,  that  unexpected  joys 
rise  up  and  flock  about  you ;  that  mornings  of  conso 
lation  break  after  nights  of  sorrow ;  that  prosperity  sur 
prises  you  at  the  door,  when  you  thought  it  was  loss  and 
poverty  that  knocked  ;  that  your  alienated  child  falls  on 
your  neck  a  penitent;  that  the  post  whose  arrival  you 
have  been  dreading,  awake  and  in  troubled  dreams,  for 
weeks,  brings  you  news  that  turns  anxiety  into  thanks 
giving,  and  starts  tears  from  another  fountain.  It  is  for 
the  trying  of  your  faith,  that  the  alarm  of  pain  sounds 
through  your  chambers  at  midnight;  that  the  cry  of 
death  comes  forth  from  the  lips  of  a  man,  on  whose  neck 
the  welfare  and  affections  of  great  communities  had 
hung,  —  a  statesman  that  upheld  the  commonwealth,  a 
merchant  that  dignified  commerce,  a  physican  that  healed 
hearts  as  well  as  frames,  or  a  preacher  whose  character 
repronounced  his  sermons ;  for  this  that  a  consumptive 
paleness  on  the  best-beloved  face  makes  you  tremble; 
that  a  broken  bloodvessel  throngs  your  brain  with  a 
thousand  fears ;  that  scarlet-fever  shows  its  spots  on 
your  children's  arms ;  that  an  Asiatic  pestilence  sends 
its  gloomy  heralds  on  from  city  to  city  across  the  con 
tinents  ;  that  inward  admonitions  point  you  forward  to 
a  day  when  all  costlier  garments  shall  be  exchanged 
for  a  shroud,  and  strange  hands  shall  lower  your  dust 
into  a  grave. 


TRIALS    OF    FAITH.  227 

It  is  for  the  trying  of  your  faith,  that  your  little  island 
of  knowledge  is  embosomed  in  an  ocean  of  mystery; 
that  the  Bible  is  not  all  plain  to  the  understanding,  nor 
God's  voice  audible  when  we  are  perplexed,  nor  the  way- 
marks  of  duty  always  visible ;  that  the  brightest  lamps 
are  often  quenched  first ;  that 

"  the  good  die  first, 

And  they  whose  hearts  are  dry  as  summer  dust 
Burn  to  the  socket " ; 

that  moral  purity  is  not  outwardly  rewarded,  and  right 
eous  plans  seem  to  fail.  And,  what  is  perhaps  unlikelier 
to  be  believed  than  all,  —  it  is  for  the  trying  of  your  faith 
that  markets  fluctuate,  banks  discount,  iron  and  cotton 
carry  your  fortunes  up  or  down,  tariffs  change,  gold-mines 
are  opened,  crops  grow  or  fail. 

It  is  for  this  God  places  us  in  the  world,  schools  us  in 
it,  takes  us  out  of  it.  For  are  we  not  immortal  ?  And 
is  not  the  principle  of  our  immortality,  faith  in  the  Fa 
ther  of  our  spirits,  —  in  his  Son,  who  manifests  Him  and 
is  the  way  to  Him,  —  in  his  spiritual  truth,  —  in  the  king 
dom  of  Heaven  ? 

I  suppose  this  statement  of  the  true  end  of  life,  and  of 
God's  design  with  us,  would  be  more  acceptable  in  some 
quarters,  if,  instead  of  the  trying  of  your  faith,  we  were 
to  say  the  formation  of  your  character.  There  ought  cer 
tainly  to  be  no  quarrel  with  a  man  who  has  so  cleared 
himself  of  corrupt  and  selfish  influences,  as  to  be  able  to 
set  it  up  as  his  supreme  purpose  to  form  a  right  char 
acter.  Yet  this  preference  of  the  term  character  for  faith 
may  possibly  betray  a  tendency  in  the  religious  habit  of 
the  times,  which  would,  if  indulged,  give  narrow  and 
one-sided  proportions  to  the  spiritual  life. 

Faith  is  the  stronger  word,  and  contains  a  richer  mean- 


228  TRIALS    OF    FAITH. 

ing.  Faith  includes  character,  and  also  the  internal  prin 
ciple,  the  motive,  the  germ,  the  secret  life,  out  of  which 
character  grows.  If  we  could  only  escape  from  the  for 
mal  impressions  connected  with  it,  and  take  it  on  our 
lips,  not  as  theologians,  but  for  the  fresh  and  simple  feel 
ing  of  every  good  heart  which  it  really  signifies,  we  should 
find  it  to  express  something  deeper  and  dearer  even  than 
character.  Character  refers  rather  to  what  one  is  in  his 
relations  to  others  ;  faith,  to  what  he  is  in  his  own  heart, 
and  thus  what  he  must  be  to  others.  His  character  tells 
us  how  he  will  behave  ;  his  faith,  why  he  behaves  as  he 
does.  His  character  speaks  for  his  conscience  and  his 
principles  ;  his  faith  speaks  for  his  affections,  as  well  as 
his  conscience,  and  plants  his  principles  on  the  only  sure 
foundation,  - —  love  and  trust  towards  God,  personal  sym 
pathy  for  Christ,  a  fervent  communion  with  the  Spirit. 
The  Apostles,  whose  insight  into  the  depths  of  spiritual 
truth  always  gave  them  the  most  exact  and  compre 
hensive  language,  and  Jesus  himself,  insisted  on  faith  in 
almost  every  discourse  ;  but  although  they  were  contin 
ually  enjoining  the  virtues  that  make  up  character,  the 
word  character  does  not  occur  in  the  New  Testament. 

Turning  now  to  the  great  classes  of  trials  I  have  men 
tioned,  let  us  seek  for  some  clew  to  the  law  by  which 
they  are  meant  to  work  together  for  our  good,  in  strength 
ening  this  faith. 

First  are  trials  in  religious  confidence.  I  believe  a 
great  many  persons  sincerely  desire  religious  satisfaction, 
who  do  not  know  where  to  go  for  it  nor  how  to  get  it. 
They  wish  they  were  Christian,  in  the  full  meaning  of 
that  name,  and  yet  do  not  see  clearly  how  to  proceed. 
They  would  be  willing  to  make  sacrifices  ;  they  have 
looked  far  enough  into  the  life  of  fashion  and  pleasure  to 


TRIALS    OF    FAITH.  229 

see  how  empty  it  is  of  all  permanent  rewards  ;  they  look 
at  the  tranquil  souls  and  serene  faces  of  thorough  and 
consistent  disciples,  and  long  for  the  same  peace;  they 
have  a  general  belief  in  the  claims  of  revelation  ;  but 
there  is  a  restless  yearning  in  their  breasts  for  something 
more  ;  and,  as  the  days  and  months  wear  on,  they  are 
weary  at  making  no  nearer  approaches  to  a  real  recon 
ciliation  and  fellowship  with  Christ. 

Let  them  understand,  then,  that  this  is  the  trying  of 
their  faith.  The  first  condition  of  our  attaining  to  any 
real  strength  of  soul,  is  that  we  become  fully  conscious 
of  our  weakness.  Before  we  can  be  made  fit  to  receive 
so  great  a  gift  as  the  feeling  of  being  forgiven  and  ac 
cepted,  —  safe,  or  saved,  —  it  is  necessary  that  an  intense 
want  should  be  created  in  us.  Utterly  discontented  and 
homesick  the  prodigal  must  be,  before  he  will  set  his 
face  towards  his  father's  house.  There  must  be  a 
mighty  hunger  in  a  man's  heart,  before  he  will  gladly 
seize  and  eat  of  the  Bread  which  cometh  down  from 
heaven.  This  is  the  reason,  evidently,  for  the  Saviour's 
beatitude,  "  Blessed  are  they  that  do  hunger  and  thirst 
after  righteousness,  for  they  shall  be  filled."  Very  often 
we  have  to  be  kept  a  long  time  out  of  our  inheritance, 
because  our  hearts  are  not  in  a  fit  state  to  receive  it 
humbly  and  gratefully.  It  was  to  prefigure  this  fact  of 
experience,  beyond  question,  that  the  Saviour  himself 
spent  forty  days  of  temptation  in  the  wilderness  before 
angels  came  and  ministered  unto  him,  and  Paul  tar 
ried  three  years  in  Arabia  before  he  could  take  up  the 
responsibility  of  his  apostleship.  Now,  with  most  of 
us,  so  short-sighted  is  our  calculation,  and  so  seducible 
is  our  conscience,  this  preparation  is  got  by  a  bitter  and 
disastrous  experiment.  Instead  of  going  into  the  privacy 

20 


TRIALS    OF    FAITH. 

of  religious  meditation,  and  settling  the  sharp  contro 
versy  between  self-will  and  God's  will,  as  the  governing, 
principle  of  life,  by  a  wise  reflection,  in  our  youth,  we 
insist  on  trying  the  world  first.  So  we  go  round  through 
the  circle  of  transient  interests,  tasting  one  cup  after 
another  ;  dropping  our  manhood,  and  running  off,  wher 
ever  a  siren's  invitation  calls  us,  —  the  senses,  ambition, 
money,  a  fine  estate,  long  life,  gay  society,  —  till,  finally, 
discovering  that  every  phantom  cheated  us,  every  ignis 
fatuus  led  us  into  a  slough,  and  every  metal  we  struck 
rings  hollow,  we  creep  back,  and  beg  of  God  and  the 
Church  to  take  what  folly  and  sin  had  well-nigh  spoilt, 
mocked,  and  thrown  away.  Well,  if  the  conversion  is 
earnest,  and  the  consecration  sincere,  the  forgiving  Fa 
ther  accepts  us.  But  what  wonder,  if,  before  he  intro 
duces  us  into  the  full  joy  of  believing,  or  the  rewards  of 
obedience,  he  first  tries  our  faith  ?  Be  sure  that  no 
otherwise  can  we  have  that  faithful  spirit  of  which 
Christian  disciples  are  made.  You  have  been  years 
wandering,  unfitting  yourself  for  spiritual  peace,  because 
out  of  harmony  with  God,  who  asks  the  supreme  devo 
tion  of  your  soul.  What  right  have  you  to  expect  to 
spring,  at  one  bound,  into  the  complete  restoration  of 
every  ab"used  and  disordered  faculty?  It  ought  to  be 
enough,  if,  your  face  being  firmly  turned  towards  your 
Father  in  heaven,  he  lifts,  little  by  little,  the  veil  that 
hides  the  full  splendor  of  his  presence. 

Here,  then,  is  the  trying  of  your  faith.  Because  you 
insisted  on  trying  the  world,  God  insists  on  trying  you. 
You  long  for  religious  peace.  Do  you  long  for  it  enough 
to  wait,  as  well  as  strive  for  it  ?  Are  ye  able  to  drink  of 
that  cup,  and  be  baptized  with  that  baptism  ?  The 
first  lesson  God  has  to  teach  you,  after  so  much  obsti- 


TRIALS    OF    FAITH.  231 

nate  self-will,  is  the  humiliation  of  your  pride.  What 
you  are  to  learn  by  this  discontent  is,  that  you  are  not 
sufficient  to  yourself,  but  must  look  above  yourself ;  that 
you  cannot  guide  yourself,  but  must  beseech  the  Spirit 
to  guide  you ;  that  you,  being  finite,  cannot  grasp  in 
finite  things,  but  must  let  the  Saviour  reach  up  for  you, 
show  you  where  your  uncertain  hand  shall  lay  hold  on 
the  rod  and  staff,  and  make  you  one  with  him.  The  two 
powers  that  this  slow  trying  of  your  religious  constancy 
is  meant  to  develop  in  your  soul,  are  humbler  prayers, 
and  a  more  patient  feeling  after,  and  following  after, 
Jesus.  These  together  are  faith ;  and  their  certain  end 
is  peace. 

But  again  ;  at  the  same  time,  and  for  the  same  end, 
faith  is  tried  through  our  human  affections.  Have  you 
ever  seen  —  so  as  to  know  how  dreary  a  spectacle  it  is 
—  the  trust  in  Heaven  trampled  out  of  a  soul,  instead  of 
being  strengthened,  by  the  tortures  of  grief  ?  Have  you 
ever  felt  in  yourself,  in  some  moment  of  darkness,  a  pass 
ing  fear  that  an  impending  sorrow  would  be  too  much 
for  your  spirit  to  sustain  ?  Have  you  ever  felt  the  pain 
ful  and  guilty  doubt,  whether  you  have  been  carried  up 
to  a  loftier  plane  of  life,  and  holier  states,  by  your  past 
afflictions  ?  If  you  have,  you  will  need  no  farther  ex 
planation  of  what  is  meant. 

The  first  demand  of  the  soul,  under  such  an  ordeal,  is 
to  realize  that  its  suffering  has  an  object.  We  com 
monly  think  we  could  endure  trouble  with  composure,  if 
we  could  only  see  what  is  to  be  accomplished  by  endur 
ing  it.  Why,  why  is  it  ?  is  the  question  that  haunts  the 
aching  breast,  and  disturbs  its  submission.  We  must  be 
content  to  suffer  without  an  answer  to  that  question. 
That  is  the  trial  of  faith.  If  a  full  answer  were  to  be 


232  TRIALS    OF    FAITH. 

given,  there  would  be  no  room  for  faith.  Who  am  I, 
that  I  should  require  the  Infinite  and  Eternal  One  to 
assign  me  reasons  for  his  counsel  ?  "  What  I  do,  thou 
knowest  not  now,  but  thou  shalt  know  hereafter,"  is  ex 
planation  enough  to  my  impatient  curiosity."  That  is 
what  God  demands  of  faith  to  feel. 

When  the  smart  and  the  load  of  fresh  afflictions  are 
not  upon  us,  we  are  able  to  feel  it,  perhaps,  quite  easily. 
But  how,  when  the  nerves  are  torn,  and  the  separation 
has  come, — when  the  dead  body  lies  in  the  next  room, 
and  the  tones  of  the  silenced  voice  yet  linger  in  our  ears, 
and  the  sense  of  bereavement  presses  in  through  every 
pore  of  the  heart  ?  Can  we  realize  it  then  ? 

In  such  particular  cases  of  suffering,  we  have  to  fall 
back,  I  think,  on  some  reserved  fund  of  faith  accumu 
lated  in  calmer  moments.  On  your  way  to  your  child's 
or  your  husband's  burial,  you  are  not  expected  to  gener 
alize,  nor  to  reason,  nor  to  draw  philosophical  deductions 
from  a  wide  circle  of  facts.  God  will  not  be  angry  if 
you  fail  to  see,  just  in  that  bewildered  paroxysm  of  grief, 
how  it  is  well  for  you  to  be  so  stricken.  Yet  you  can 
say  to  yourself,  even  then,  in  the  midst  of  your  tears, 
"  It  is  well ;  somehow  it  is  well ;  it  must  be  wise,  and 
right,  and  merciful."  That  will  be  both  the  trial  and 
the  triumph  of  faith.  And  if  you  have  noticed,  looking 
back  over  your  past  experience,  or  out  among  your  com 
panions,  that  sorrow  is  the  chief  producer  of  human 
goodness  on  the  whole,  arid  crosses  are  the  mightiest  in 
struments  of  spiritual  purity  on  the  whole,  you  are  held 
to  apply  that  general  conviction  of  your  reason  to  this 
special  instance  of  affliction.  If  it  is  a  law  that  a  stormy 
air  nurses  your  moral  vigor,  you  must  abide  by  that  law 
while  the  storm  beats  in,  and  the  waves  are  high,  as 
bravely  as  in  sunshine  and  still  seas. 


TRIALS    OF    FAITH. 


233 


The  settled  conclusion  God  obviously  wishes  us  to 
reach  and  rest  in,  and  one  that  he  passes  us  through  all 
this  mixed  encounter  of  pain  and  peace  to  establish  in  us, 
is  this :  that  in  every  passage  of  our  life  there  are  two 
parties  engaged,  —  God  and  ourselves.  Some  persons, 
saints,  find  this  out  early ;  and  to  them  pain  thenceforth 
loses  its  tormenting  power.  Most  of  us  have  to  learn  it 
by  a  long  and  gradual  trying  of  our  faith.  A  nominal 
belief  in  such  a  truth  is  common  enough.  But  veritably 
to  realize  that  God  is  personally  present  and  interested 
in  the  little  gettings-on  of  our  virtue,  is  a  rarer  attain 
ment,  and  needs  a  peculiar  training.  To  achieve  that 
result,  the  Divine  methods  are  wonderful.  He  buffets 
and  caresses.  He  gives  and  takes  away.  He  sends 
now  a  providence  signal  and  exceptional,  and  then  the 
regularity  of  nature.  He  answers  some  prayers  accord 
ing  to  their  request,  and  others  by  withholding  the  boon, 
but  still  thereby  increasing  submission.  He  twines  to 
gether  motives  the  most  complicated.  He  keeps  gener 
ous  men  poor,  and  lets  the  selfish  and  sensual  gain 
the  world.  He  cuts  off  the  philanthropist,  and  spares  the 
tyrant.  All  this,  for  the  trying  of  our  faith.  If  you  ac 
custom  yourself  to  watching  this  play  of  the  Divine  pur 
pose,  you  will  find  it,  apart  from  your  personal  implica 
tion  in  it,  one  of  the  most  fascinating  of  all  problems. 
Yet  how  often  do  we  complain  of  the  crosses  as  evils, 
and  snatch  greedily  at  the  comforts,  as  animals  at  their 
fodder! 

The  acknowledgment  of  mystery,  then,  the  frank  con 
fession  that  our  being  is  folded  all  about  with  the  un 
knowable,  our  light  fringed  on  every  side  with  darkness, 
our  little  globe  swimming  in  an  ocean  of  unfathomable 
designs,  but  God  guiding  it  on  and  caring  for  every  pas- 

20* 


234  TRIALS    OF    FAITH. 

senger  soul,  — this  is  another  end  of  the  trying  of  our 
faith. 

But  there  is  another  feeling  under  suffering,  that  fur 
nishes  another  trial  of  faith.  Each  sufferer  regards  his 
own  burden  as  peculiar ;  and,  comparing  himself  with  his 
neighbors,  cannot  understand  the  unequal  distribution. 
A  father  sitting  in  his  desolate  dwelling,  where  no  chil 
dren's  voices  ring  as  they  used  to  de,  cannot  discover  that 
he  deserves  the  scourge  more  than  his  happier  friend. 
A  young  wife,  that  has  suddenly  waked  out  of  a  trance 
of  terror  over  her  husband's  fever,  only  to  feel  the  light 
of  life  all  expunged,  and  the  sun  quenched,  wonders  why 
she  is  chosen  out  for  the  awful  fate.  A  believing  widow 
kneels  by  her  only  son's  coffin,  and  cries  in  her  despair, 
"  What  have  I  done,  that  Thou  shouldst  curse  me  thus  ? " 

Several  things  might  be  answered ;  as,  that  fortunes 
are  never  so  unequal  as  they  seem ;  that,  under  a  florid 
surface,  prosperity  often  hides  abysses  of  anguish ;  that 
the  forms  of  sorrow  have  not  so  much  to  do  as  they 
seem  with  its  amount.  But  these  are  not  the  answer  of 
faith,  which  is,  that  the  purpose  of  suffering  is  never  to  be 
found  out  by  a  comparison  of  merits  among  neighbors, 
but  by  considering  how  it  draws  the  soul  in  more  child 
like  dependence  towards  the  Father.  By  this  principle, 
the  right-minded  and  well-meaning  must  be  tried,  quite 
as  much  as  the  faithless.  Trials  are  signs  of  celestial 
favor,  seals  on  their  forehead,  badges  of  favorites,  crowns 
of  honor.  We  forget  that  it  is  just  as  important  that 
the  good  should  be  made  better,  as  that  the  bad  should 
be  reformed.  Vessels  that  are  to  be  made  meet  for  the 
Master's  highest  uses  are  to  be  refined  in  the  furnace 
seven  times  heated.  We  must  learn  that  it  is  a  far 
richer  blessing  to  be  taught  what  the  feeling  of  the  Com- 


TRIALS    OF    FAITH.  235 

forter  is,  and  what  peace  comes  with  self-renunciation, 
than  to  go  through  life  in  any  holiday  dance.  .Just  as 
the  wise  and  affectionate  mother  shows  her  true  mater 
nal  love  more  manifestly,  when  she  causes  her  child  to 
cry  with  disappointment  by  snatching  him  back  from  the 
candle  he  grasps  at  as  a  flaming  toy,  than  when  she  gives 
him  the  costliest  plaything;  so  God  often  shows  a  tenderer 
concern  when  he  denies  us  health  and  riches,  than  when 
he  grants  them,  —  when  he  enfeebles  us  with  disease  or 
poverty,  than  when  he  covers  us  with  flesh  or  fortune. 
But  this  also  we  never  should  discover,  but  for  the  trying 
of  our  faith. 

And  thus,  finally,  we  touch  the  trials  that  come  to 
faith  by  the  breaking  up  of  earthly  hopes.  I  held  the 
hand  of  a  valiant  man,  the  other  day,  whose  body  was 
faint  with  five  years  of  pain.  He  looked  up  at  me  with 
a  smile  on  his  white,  thin  cheeks,  and  whispered  very 
feebly :  "  They  say  this  is  a  hard,  dark  world ;  it  is  no 
such  thing.  It  is  a  bright,  genial  world.  Christ  has 
•been  in  it;  he  is  in  it  still."  Prophet  of  immortality,  and 
preacher  of  a  victorious  faith!  I  thought,  —  here  is  the 
victory  that  overcometh  the  world,  for  it  overcometh  suf 
fering  and  death,  the  world's  two  cruellest  tyrants.  I 
called  him  valiant.  He  was  more  than  valiant,  for  he 
was  patient.  The  trying  of  your  faith  worketh  patience; 
and  patience,  experience ;  and  experience,  the  hope  that 
maketh  not  ashamed. 

I  know  of  few  gloomier  spectacles  than  that  of  a  man 
who  has  been  put  by  God  into  a  sick-room,  or  into  the 
arms  of  some  sharp  calamity,  to  be  made  purer,  com 
ing  out  as  corrupt  in  his  tastes,  as  low  in  his  aims,  as 
eager  in  the  chase  for  bubbles,  as  before.  It  is  such  a 
waste  of  divine  privilege !  A  great  fortune  suddenly  lost, 


236  TRIALS    OF    FAITH. 

by  shipwreck  or  fire,  or  a  convulsion  in  finance,  or  a  part 
ner's  forfeited  faith,  is  such  a  splendid  opportunity  for 
moral  heroism  as  may  never  come  again.  A  family  that 
step  down  gracefully  and  sweektemperedly  from  afflu 
ence  to  strict  economies,  need  not  go  as  missionaries  to 
illustrate  Christianity.  How  many  examples  have  proved 
that  it  is  not  till  the  fruits  of  outward  labors  have  been 
swept  away,  that  the  toils  of  the  spirit  can  begin  to  rear 
the  spiritual  edifice  on  clean  foundations!  It  is  the  try 
ing  of  faith  that  glorifies  humanity,  and  saves  the  soul. 

Brethren,  the  truth  we  have  pondered  has  a  threefold 
bearing,  according  as  we  look  towards  our  Lord,  towards 
one  another,  or  toward  ourselves.  We  are  entangled  to 
gether  in  a  chain  of  common  feeling,  all  whose  links  are 
forged  and  welded  in  pain.  But  we  are  bound  also,  by 
the  same  chain,  to  the  heart  of  the  Redeemer ;  either  to 
be  made  more  wretched,  one  day,  because  our  estranged 
and  irreligious  consciences  cannot  bear  the  look  of  his 
purity  judging  us,  —  or  to  be  filled  with  consolation,  and 
animated  with  courage,  because  he  will  judge  that  our 
suffering  has  disciplined  us  into  penitence,  purged  us, 
and  proved  to  be  the  trying  of  our  faith.  We  talk  of 
carving  out  our  own  fortunes,  and  stimulate  each  other 
to  that  transient  emulation.  There  is  no  way  we  can 
look  on  one  another  so  noble  as  to  see  rather  how  each 
is  carving  his  fortune  itself  into  a  ladder  of  ascent  to 
wards  spiritual  perfection,  making  all  his  lot  a  refiner  of 
his  soul,  and  ever  adding  to  that  solemn  wisdom  of  ex 
perience,  by  which  life  is  directed  towards  its  immortal 
end.  Compared  with  our  progress  through  this  sublime 
struggle,  and  this  deep  community  of  trial,  how  poor 
looks  all  our  watching  of  one  another's  wealth,  and  our 
criticism  of  each  other's  movements  !  Life  is  more  than 


TRIALS    OF    FAITH.  237 

meat.  Only  as  we  help  each  other  in  that  science  which 
underlies  all  sciences,  that  practice  which  transcends  all 
other  labors,  the  knowing  how  to  live  a  larger  life,  to 
breathe  a  nobler  charity,  to  pray  more  believing  prayers, 
to  converse  with  God,  and  hold  the  fellowship  of  faith 
with  Christ,  and  thus  to  gain  the  spiritual  mind  that  was 
in  him,  —  only  thus  are  we  really  brethren  of  a  Christian 
baptism.  Be  this  our  personal  consecration ;  be  that  this 
day's  vow.  May  God  grant  it  a  glorious  fulfilment! 
For  only  his  love  can  so  work  within  us,  that  our  disci 
pline  shall  be  our  purification.  And  only  the  pure  in 
heart  shall  see  God. 


SERMON      XVII. 

SALVATION,  NOT  FKOM  SUFFERING,  BUT  BY  IT. 

THEN    SAID    MARTHA    UNTO    JESUS,   LORD,   IF    THOU    HADST    BEEN 
HERE,   MY   BROTHER   HAD   NOT   DIED. — John  xi.  21. 

THE  lowest  view  of  life  looks  out  upon  it  as  no  scene 
of  the  workings  and  revealings  of  the  Divine  Spirit,  but 
only  as  a  hostelry  where  every  guest  is  to  seize  on  so 
many  of  the  good  things  exposed  as  the  laws  of  the 
place  allow,  —  to  consume  what  the  senses  crave,  re 
garding  no  other  than  sensual  penalties,  —  to  grasp  the 
largest  handful  of  comfort  irrespective  of  rights  or  ser 
vices,  and  to  push  pleasure  to  the  utmost  pitch  of  in 
tensity  consistent  with  its  continuance. 

Of  course,  this  selfish  hunt  will  take  different  direc 
tions,  according  to  the  ruling  appetite ;  proceeding  with 
some  men  by  a  cool  calculation,  and  with  others  by 
passionate  plunges  of  impulse.  But  the  characteristic 
mark  on  all  its  phases  is,  that  it  disowns  God.  The 
whole  eager  race  through  which  it  strains  its  muscles 
ignores  the  spiritual  presence.  Religious  accountability 
is  an  element  foreign  to  it.  Duty  is  a  word  without  a 
meaning.  Conscience  is  only  one  of  the  furies.  Christ 
is  a  veiled  figure.  Stewardship  is  a  visionary  fancy. 
The  curtain  that  drops  over  the  grave  is  of  stone,  as 


SALVATION,  NOT  FROM  SUFFERING,  BUT  BY  IT.  239 

immovable  as  it  is   impenetrable.      This   is   paganism, 
only  without  its  intellectual  dreams,  or  its  Olympus. 

This  system  not  only  fails  to  provide  for  the  chief 
internal  necessity,  namely,  the  native  aspirations,  the 
importunities  besetting  human  nature  with  the  demand 
for  some  kind  of  a  religion,  but  it  also  fails  to  meet  one 
external  fact,  which  lies  on  the  very  surface  of  our  being, 
and  forms  one  of  its  invariable  ingredients  ;  I  mean  suf 
fering.  Suffering  is  a  kind  of  test  of  all  philosophies 
and  all  theories  of  life.  It  is  useless  to  leave  it  out 
of  the  calculation ;  for,  through  the  disorders  of  a  mor 
tal  body,  through  dull  discouragements,  through  weak 
nesses  of  the  spirit,  through  a  sensitive  brain  or  heart, 
through  the  affections  that  weave  families  together, — 
through  some  of  these  inlets,  it  forces  its  way  back 
into  every  lot,  and  will  not  be  forgotten.  Life  does  not 
really  become  a  problem  with  any  of  us,  till  we  taste  of 
its  bitterness.  Pain,  sorrow,  trial,  bereavement,  —  these 
are  names  of  which  no  man  or  woman  ever  learns  the 
real  signification  from  grammar  or  dictionary,  but  only 
by  drinking  their  cup  in  a  secret  experience.  Whenever 
they  come,  that  comfort-seeking  or  Epicurean  plan  of 
living  collapses ;  utter  despair  sets  in ;  cries,  but  no 
answer  nor  strength  ;  and  the  least  the  agonized  Epicu 
rean  can  do,  if  he  will  be  a  heathen  still,- and  not  a 
Christian,  is  to  fly  to  Zeno's  Porch,  and  borrow  some 
crumbs  of  frigid  dignity  that  fall  from  the  Stoic's  table. 

Ascend  then  a  step  higher.  Here  we  find  God  to  be 
acknowledged,  but  more  through  fear,  which  is  selfish, 
than  through  devout  submission.  The  .spiritual  faculty 
has  waked,  but  has  not  become  clear-sighted.  Provi 
dence  has  returned  to  the  world  from  which  the  sottish 
unbelief  we  were  just  noticing  had  rejected  him  ;  but  the 


240  SALVATION,  NOT  FROM  SUFFERING,  BUT  BY  IT. 

confession,  "  Thy  will  be  done,"  is  not  so  full  and  un 
reserved  as  to  include  the  giving  up  of  the  dearest  idols. 
A  heaven  is  seen  to  overarch  the  earth,  —  but  seen  as 
yet  through  a  glas.s,  and  darkly,  because  a  film  is  on  the 
looker's  eyes.  The  daily  dealings  of  the  Spirit  are  intel 
lectually  believed  in  ;  but  so  much  of  the  old  earthly 
leaven  and  habit  cling  still  to  the  soul,  that  you  hesitate 
to  yield  a  complete  confidence  ;  you  dare  to  suspect  that 
here  and  there  some  sparrow,  or  treasure  more  precious 
than  that,  may  fall  to  the  ground  without  your  Father's 
notice. 

This  state,  too,  like  the  other,  is  met  by  suffering,  the 
spiritual  touchstone.  How  does  it  behave  itself  under 
that  dread  ministry  ?  Well,  —  but  not  best.  Soberly, 
but  not  serenely.  Reputably,  but  not  quite  to  the  satis 
faction  of  its  own  highest  aspiration,  nor  of  true  Chris 
tian  friendship.  The  ligaments  that  bind  it  to  this 
world  have  been  so  long  strengthening  and  hardening, 
that,  when  they  part,  a  chasm  seems  to  be  left  in  the 
very  core  of  the  heart.  Self  has  interlaced  its  plans  and 
desires  so  cunningly  with  all  the  web  of  life,  that  some 
selfish  preferences  linger  to  mar  the  beauty  of  resigna 
tion,  —  to  keep  back  a  part  of  the  soul's  trust,  and  to  dis 
turb  the  perfect  peace  and  joy  of  believing.  There  is 
the  beginning  of  faith,  —  too  much  to  be  thrown  away, 
not  enough  to  live  by.  Here  is  a  stage  of  religious 
progress,  not  less  deserving  study  than  any  other,  and 
needing  consolations  and  encouragements  almost  as 
much  as  unconcern  needs  rebuke. 

This,  as  I  interpret  the  narrative,  is  precisely  the  state 
where  the  speaker  stands,  as  the  language  of  the  text 
represents  her.  The  Bible  is  a  transcript  of  all  possible 
experience,  and  has  some  representative  for  every  shade 


SALVATION,  NOT  FROM  SUFFERING,  BUT  BY  IT.  241 

of  our  discipline.  "  Lord,  if  thou  hadst  been  here,  my 
brother  had  not  died."  There  is  a  mixture  of  the 
strength  and  the  weakness  of  faith,  —  perhaps  I  might 
say,  of  faith  and  superstition.  This  woman  believed  in 
the  power  and  love  of  her  Lord  ;  this  was  her  true  faith. 
But  she  believed  that  this  power  and  love  of  Jesus,  if 
they  had  been  afforded  a  chance  to  operate  at  all,  must 
necessarily  have  been  displayed  in  prolonging  her  broth 
er's  life  in  the  body.  That  was  a  falsity  or  weakness 
of  her  faith.  She  also  seems  to  have  supposed  that  the 
wonders  of  the  Saviour's  spirit  were  limited  to  his  phys 
ical  presence  ;  not  having  learned  yet  that  his  spirit,  and 
its  ministry  of  healing  love,  whether  to  bodies  or  souls, 
is  independent  of  ah1  material  organization  or  motion, 
and  transcends  the  restrictions  of  distance  or  time.  This 
Jesus  immediately  corrects,  by  saying,  "  Whosoever, 
anywhere,  believeth  on  me,  shall  never  die."  "  To 
whomsoever  believeth  on  him,  the  Son  hath  power  to 
give  eternal  life." 

Martha,  therefore,  is  a  type  of  that  faith,  —  sincere  and 
yet  imperfect,  beautiful  for  its  prompt  simplicity,  and 
yet  not  enlarged  and  disciplined  into  entire  self-renun 
ciation,  —  which  believes  in  the  Divine  mercy,  but  con 
tinues  to  regard  personal  safety,  and  the  outward  society 
of  kindred,  as  more  important  than  the  doing  of  God's 
will ;  which  clings  to,  and  prays  for,  the  private  privilege 
of  clasping  friends  or  children  in  the  arms  of  flesh,  more 
fervently  than  the  spiritual  purification,  the  glory  of  char 
acter,  which  may  come  of  their  removal.  She  represents 
all  of  us  who  fail  of  that  thorough  submission  which 
rejoices  more  in  being  drawn  to  immortal  excellence  by 
suffering,  than  in  being  exempted  from  it.  Out  of  that 
second  state  into  a  third  and  higher  one  —  a  purer  and  a 
21 


242  SALVATION,  NOT  FROM  SUFFERING,  BUT  BY  IT. 

calmer  one  —  Christ  wishes  to  lift  her  and  us.  That 
will  be  the  state  where  a  pure  arid  holy  soul  will  be  felt 
to  be  of  more  value  than  any  freedom  from  pain  ;  where 
sympathy  and  co-operation  with  Christ  appear  a  dearer 
privilege  than  the  remaining  of  any  human  friend  or 
kinsman  at  your  side ;  and  where  acceptance  into  the 
kingdom  of  Heaven,  which  is  God's  favor  both  now  and 
hereafter,  is  more  to  be  striven  for  than  any  repose  of 
human  affections,  or  any  satisfying  of  selfish  desires. 

Saved  by  suffering,  not  saved  from  it ;  that  is  the  law 
of  life  revealed  in  Christ,  —  the  disciple's  prayer,  the 
sufferer's  consolation.  Character  depends  on  inward 
strength.  But  this  strength  has  two  conditions  :  it  is  in 
creased  only  by  being  pat  forth,  and  it  is  tested  only  by 
some  resistance.  So,  if  the  spiritual  force,  or  character, 
in  you  is  to  be  strong,  it  must  be  measured  against 
some  competition.  It  must  enter  into  conflict  with  an 
antagonist.  It  must  stand  in  comparison  with  some 
thing  formidable  enough  to  be  a  standard  of  its  power. 

Now,  the  ordinary  course  of  a  prosperous  fortune  fur 
nishes  no  such  standard.  I  do  not  deny  that  there  are  a 
few  favored  moral  constitutions  that  will  ripen  into  saint 
hood  under  the  influence  of  perpetual  comfort.  But  they 
are  rare  exceptions,  if  they  exist ;  and  he  must  be  a  bold 
presumer  that  will  dare  claim  to  be  of  their  company. 
Suffering,  then,  in  some  of  its  forms,  must  be  introduced, 
the  appointed  minister,  the  great  assayist,  to  put  the 
genuineness  of  faith  to  the  proof,  and  purify  it  of  its 
dross.  What  special  form  it  shall  take  for  each,  it  is  for 
God,  who  knows  us  better  than  we  know  ourselves, 
to  decide.  Mary  and  Martha  must  see  Lazarus  die. 
Matthew  must  forsake  all  to  follow  his  Master.  Marys 
and  Marthas  must  weep,  the  world  over  ;  the  sorrows  of 


SALVATION,  NOT  FROM  SUFFERING,  BUT  BY  IT.  243 

Bethany  be  revived  in  the  homes  of  distant  centuries 
and  undiscovered  countries,  till  the  lengthening  sister 
hood  of  suffering  clasps  hands  around  the  globe.  Many 
Matthews,  by  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific,  as  well  as  by  the 
shore  of  Tiberias,  must  part  with  profits  and  gains  for 
an  unreserved  apostleship.  The  most  generous  and 
beautiful  children  —  the  manliest  sons  and  loveliest 
daughters  —  must  be  buried  out  of  some  families  ;  and 
in  others  ingratitude  or  vice  must  spread  a  far  more 
dreadful  mourning.  And  because,  in  the  mystery  of 
God's  forethought,  some  souls  are  to  have  tasks  and 
stations  of  peculiar  honor  offered  them  in  his  king 
dom,  from  these  one  after  another  of  the  dearest  and 
most  delicious  joys  must  vanish,  light  after  light  be 
quenched,  child  after  child  droop  into  a  sick-bed,-  and 
then  into  shorter  breathings,  and  then  into  the  infinite 
silence,  till  all  are  gone,  and  all  is  still.  Uncongenial 
companionships,  unreasonable  tempers,  unreturned  af 
fections,  unrealized  ideals  of  goodness,  unforeseen  calam 
ities  to  property,  pinching  poverty,  slow  disorders  that 
overcloud  the  spirits  or  tire  out  patience  ;  —  I  need  not 
enumerate  the  legions  of  ever-active  and  unwelcome 
ministers,  abroad  and  busy  throughout  men's  dwellings, 
never  invited,  yet  forcing  their  way  in,  made  necessary  by 
the  weakness  of  our  faith,  ordained  to  discipline  us  into 
independence  of  the  world,  into  heirship  in  immortality. 
How  many  of  us  are  yet  only  able,  when  they  come,  to 
say,  at  best,  with  Martha,  "  Lord,  if  thou  hadst  been 
here,  —  if  thy  goodness  could  have  been  really  exercised, 
—  these  evils  could  not  have  befallen  me  !  "  Whereas 
we  ought  clearly  to  say,  "  Lord,  in  these  very  chasten- 
ings  of  friendly  love  thou  hast  been  here,  —  not  to  save 
me  from  sufferings,  but  to  save  me  spiritually  through 


244  SALVATION,  NOT  FROM  SUFFERING,  BUT  BY  IT. 

and  by  them  ;  —  reconciliation  is  better  than  pleasure  ; 
thou  art  ever  with  me  ;  be  my  only  prayer,  '  My  Father's 
will  be  done ! '  " 

Christ's  own  way  of  treating  sufferers  sustains  this 
view.  We  fall  into  a  mistake,  I  think,  when  we  imag 
ine  that  Jesus  ever  wrought  those  wonders,  of  healing 
disease,  or  restoring  life  to  the  dead,  merely  out  of  a 
personal  pity  to  the  sick  or  the  mourners.  Infinite  as 
that  pity  was,  it  took  a  higher  range,  and  had  a  diviner 
object,  than  the  mere  assuaging  of  present  pain,  or  the 
prolonging  of  the  earthly  existence.  Think  of  it.  Out 
of  the  thousands  who  groaned  and  wept  in  Judaea  while 
he  was  walking  its  fields,  he  cured  but  a  few  scores  of 
maladies,  and  raised,  so  far  as  we  know,  only  three  per 
sons  -that  were  dead  to  life.  As  mere  expressions  of 
mortal  compassion,  how  inadequate  and  accidental  must 
such  instances  appear!  How  manifest  that  it  was  to 
revive  the  world's  dying  faith,  to  gain  its  trust,  to  cure 
its  disordered  heart,  that  he  wrought  these  heavenly 
works!  It  illustrates  the  same  intention,  that  most  of 
his  miracles  were  performed  in  the  earlier  parts  of  his 
public  ministry,  when  it  was  most  needful  to  attract 
confidence  to  that  new  doctrine  by  which  he  was  to  re- 
quicken  slumbering  humanity.  So  in  the  case  before 
us  :  very  clearly  it  is  not  because  he  regards  the  removal 
of  the  sister's  grief  as  the  best  service  his  divine  friend 
ship  can  render  them,  —  nor  the  prolonging  of  their 
brother's  life  a  few  years,  to  pass  through  death  again, 
as  his  choicest  boon,  —  that  he  cries,  "  Lazarus,  come 
forth!"  at  the  gates  of  his  grave.  If  that  were  so,  he 
must,  have  stayed  on  earth  for  ever,  and  extended  his 
wonder-working  hand  over  all  continents,  to  spare  man 
kind  their  calamities,  instead  of  planting  in  their  souls 


SALVATION,  NOT  FROM  SUFFERING,  BUT  BY  IT.  245 

the  germ  and  spirit  of  a  life  immortal,  conquering  calam 
ity.  Accordingly,  when  he  knows  that  Lazarus  is  dead, 
while  he  is  touched  with  tenderness  toward  the  weeping 
kindred,  he  says  plainly  to  his  disciples,  "  I  am  glad,  for 
your  sakes,  I  was  not  there,  to  the  intent  ye  may  believe" 
It  was  their  deeper  faith  he  sought,  and  through  theirs 
the  faith  of  all  his  Church.  And  then,  just  as  the  sub 
lime  marvel  was  to  appear  at  his  bidding,  and  the  still 
chamber  to  give  up  its  guest,  he  repeated  to  the  doubting 
Martha,  "  Said  I  not  unto  thee,  that  if  thou  wouldst  be 
lieve,  thou  shouldst  see  the  glory  of  God  ?  "  And  when 
he  prayed  to  the  Father,  and  said,  "  I  know  that  thou 
nearest  me  always,"  he  added,  "  Because  of  the  people 
which  stand  by,  I  said  it,  that  they  may  believe  that  thou 
hast  sent  me"  How  manifestly  the  whole  mercy  was 
granted  only  to  confirm  that  incomparable  and  eternal 
truth,  "  I  am  the  Resurrection  and  the  Life  ;  whosoever 
believeth  on  me,  though  he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he  live." 
And  now,  after  eighteen  centuries,  Jesus  does  not  stay  to 
revoke  for  us  the  decrees  of  nature, — to  be  a  physician  to 
our  sickness,  or  a  warder  at  the  door  to  keep  out  death. 
He  stays,  but  for  a  higher  ministry ;  not  to  exempt  us 
from  Buffering,  but  to  conduct  us  through  it  into  heavenly 
strength  and  peace ;  not  for  a  physical  or  temporary  cure, 
but  a  spiritual  and  final  one !  And  so  our  confession  ought 
not  to  be  the  half-faithless  one,  "  Lord,  if  thou  hadst  been 
here,  our  friends,  our  children,  would  not  have  sickened 
and  died" ;  but,  u  Lord,  because  thou  art  here,  all  our  sick 
nesses,  and  our  dying  even,  shall  be  for  the  raising  up  of 
our  souls,  and  the  glory  of  God." 

Willingness  to  suffer  for  that  end,  —  for  spiritual  re 
demption  and  the  glory  of  God,  —  this  is  what  we  have 
to  aspire  to,  and  attain,  under  the  teaching  of  Christ,  and 


246   SALVATION,  NOT  FROM  SUFFERING,  BUT  BY  IT. 

by  that  cross  whereby  he  symbolized  his  whole  religion, 
and  suffered  for  us,  thereby  made  perfect  in  his  mediator- 
ship.  "  Happy  man,"  said  a  gay  and  frivolous  young 
worldling  once,  when  his  own  nerves  were  tortured,  to  a 
more  believing  and  therefore  more  equable  companion, — 
"  happy  man,  to  have  the  strength  of  will  which  can 
thrust  its  thoughts  away,  once  and  for  all."  "  No,"  re 
plied  his  wiser  friend,  "  more  happy  are  they  whom  God 
will  not  allow  to  thrust  their  thoughts  from  them  till  the 
bitter  draught  has  done  its  work." 

There  is  another  class  of  moral  experiences  where  the 
principle  of  this  doctrine  has  an  equally  direct  applica 
tion,  —  a  class  not  less  needing  its  support  than  the  be 
reaved,  and  having  also  frequent  representatives.  I  mean 
persons  who,  having  sincerely  begun  a  Christian  life,  suf 
fer  the  temptation  of  longing  more  earnestly  for  rest  than 
for  faithful  submission.  They  have  heard  that  there  is 
joy  in  believing ;  and  so  they  undertake  to  believe  for  the 
sake  of  the  joy.  They  desire  a  comfortable  and  quiet 
mind ;  and  this,  though  it  is  a  far  nobler  thirst  than  that 
of  the  senses,  is  still,  if  it  is  too  strong,  tainted  with  self 
ishness,  and  wanting  in  faith.  As  there  is  a  spiritual 
pride,  so  there  is  a  spiritual  luxury,  and  the  appetite  that 
lusts  after  it  is  one  of  the  subtle  enemies  that  beset  those 
who  have  passed  out  of  the  lowest  stage  of  conscience 
into  the  second.  There  is  an  ambition  to  do  something 
as  out  of  your  own  self,  for  the  delight  of  approving  your 
self,  which  is  nothing  else  than  self-righteousness.  The 
mercenary  tendency  to  offer  God  your  good  works  as  a 
price  for  purchasing  an  allowance  of  self-complacency,  is 
one  that  needs  to  be  watched  by  sincere  seekers  after  the 
liberty  and  nobleness  of  true  devotion.  It  defeats  its 
own  end.  Peace  never  comes  in  that  way ;  nothing  does 


SALVATION,    NOT    FROM    SUFFERING,    BUT    BY    IT.     247 

but  discontent  and  confusion.  Peace  comes  swiftest 
when  you  seek  it  as  an  end  least  Seek  purity,  seek  re 
newal  of  heart  and  life,  seek  harmony  with  God,  seek 
the  society  of  Christ  as  a  Saviour  and  Intercessor  for  you, 
and  peace,  in  God's  good  time,  will  come  of  itself.  How 
many  really  earnest  souls  of  us  are  spoiling  our  work, 
because  we  will  invert  God's  order,  and,  instead  of  seek 
ing  faith  supremely,  leaving  comfort  for  an  incident,  go 
about  to  get  comfort  first,  and  thus  miss  faith  and  com 
fort  both !  Let  us  be  patient.  As  the  years  wear  on 
towards  the  deep  sunset,  we  are  weary  at  making  no 
nearer  approaches  to  a  real  reconciliation  and  living  inti 
macy  with  our  Lord.  But  do  we  long  for  that  rest  relig 
iously  enough  to  wait  for  it  ?  Stillness  is  our  needed 
sacrifice.  Baffled  and  broken  the  soul  must  often  be, 
before  its  immortal  strength  comes.  Humiliation  of 
pride,  —  an  utter  consciousness  of  infirmity, — to  be  kept 
painfully  out  of  our  inheritance,  —  fasting  and  mortified 
ambition,  —  forty  days  in  the  wilderness,  —  three  years 
in  Arabia,  —  all  these  are  the  price  of  conquest.  Do  not 
pray  for  exemption  from  them,  but  for  victory  by  them. 
Homesick  the  prodigal  must  be  before  he  will  set  his  face 
towards  his  father's  house.  Except  I  am  taught  my 
weakness,  I  shall  not  let  the  Saviour  reach  up  for  me,  and 
place  my  groping,  uncertain  hand  on  the  eternal  rock. 
What  right  have  we  to  say,  "  Lord,  if  thou  hadst  been 
here,  doubts  and  difficulties  would  not  have  tormented 
us,  —  our  hearts  would  not  have  died  within  us," — when 
those  doubts  and  difficulties  are  only  the  remaining  echoes 
of  our  former  disobedience  ?  Enough  if  we  can  say, 
"  Lord,  because  thou  hast  promised  to  be  with  us,  we 
will  bear  them,  and  wait  thy  will !  Not  from  this  suf 
fering,  but  by  its  purifying  ministry,  will  we  hope  and 
beseech  that  we  may  be  saved ! " 


248   SALVATION,  NOT  FROM  SUFFERING,  BUT  BY  IT. 

Further  still,  if  you  will,  you  may  generalize  this  in 
struction,  so  as  to  make  it  embrace  all  those  many  in 
stances  where  the  disappointed  and  the  afflicted  grieve 
over  some  of  the  attendant  circumstances  of  their  losses, 
vexing  their  sympathies  with  the  superfluous  doubt 
whether  some  care  was  not  omitted,  whether  the  fatal 
blow  might  not  have  been  warded  off!  When  shall  we 
learn  that  God  takes  all  the  past  into  his  secure  keeping, 
and  only  disapproves  the  energy  and  despair  that  would 
knock  against  its  closing  gate  ?  When  shall  we  believe 
that  even  out  of  the  sorrows  we  might  have  prevented, 
but  did  not,  we  may  now  draw  a  spiritual  benefit  greater 
than  to  have  prevented  them  ?  Vain  cry,  "  Lord,  if 
thou  hadst  been  here ! "  Better  to  receive  and  bless  him, 
in  whatever  robes  of  darkness,  when  he  comes. 

The  doctrine  pronounces  no  remonstrance  against  sor 
row  ;  its  very  aim  is  to  show  the  rightful  place  it  has  in 
maturing  the  loftiest  fruits  of  character ;  —  nor  against 
tears ;  how  can  it,  when  it  is  in  the  very  scene  before  us 
that  we  see  how  "  Jesus  wept "  ?  It  was  no  dainty  sen 
timentalist,  but  one  of  the  stoutest-hearted  men  of  our 
Saxon  blood,  who  wrote :  "  Weeping  is  the  discharge  of 
a  big  and  swelling  grief;  and  therefore,  he  that  never  had 
such  a  burden  upon  his  heart  as  to  give  him  opportunity 
thus  to  ease  it,  has  one  pleasure  in  this  world  yet  to 
come." 

"  Where  sorrow  's  held  intrusive,  and  turned  out, 
There  wisdom  will  not  enter,  nor  true  power, 
Nor  aught  that  dignifies  humanity." 

Paul  found  the  secret  of  the  wisdom  that  at  once  allows 
these  tender  alternations  of  human  feeling,  and  yet  sub 
jects  them  to  a  holier  faith  :  "  They  that  weep  should  be 
as  though  they  wept  not;  and  they  that  rejoice,  as  though 


SALVATION,  NOT  FROM  SUFFERING,  BUT  BY  IT.  249 

they  rejoiced  not."  Because  there  is  a  life,  possible  to 
the  soul  through  the  Spirit,  in  which  fear  and  mourning 
and  suffering  and  death  itself  are  swallowed  up,  and  lost, 
like  bubbles  on  some  calm,  deep  stream. 

"  '  I  know/  is  all  the  mourner  saith, 
'  Knowledge  by  suffering  entereth, 
And  life  is  perfected  by  death ;  — 

"  '  I  am  content  to  touch  the  brink, 
Of  pain's  dark  goblet,  and  I  think 
My  bitter  drink  a  wholesome  drink. 

" '  I  am  content  to  be  so  weak : 
Put  strength  into  the  words  I  speak, 
For  I  am  strong  in  what  I  seek. 

"  '  I  am  content  to  be  so  bare 
Before  the  archers  ;  everywhere 
My  wounds  being  stroked  by  heavenly  air. 

"  '  Glory  to  God,  —  to  God/  he  saith; 
'  Knowledge  by  suffering  entereth, 
And  life  is  perfected  by  death.'  " 

This,  then,  is  the  faith  in  which  our  life  is  to  be  lived, 
and  our  burdens  are  to  be  borne.  And  these  are  the 
steps  towards  that  conclusion :  first,  that  suffering  is  dis 
ciplinary  ;  secondly,  that,  if  our  desires  reach  only  after 
exemption  from  it,  we  pray  but  half-faithless  prayers  ;  and 
thirdly,  that  the  true  conquest  and  peace  of  faith,  as  well 
as  the  solution  of  the  mystery  of  sorrow,  lie  only  in  our 
willingness  to  suffer,  so  far  as  it  may  bring  us  to  the  so 
ciety  and  communion  of  our  Lord.  Not  from  suffering, 
but  through  it  into  life  eternal,  is  the  Christ-like  longing 
of  the  believer  and  the  Church. 

It  has  been  a  saying  in  the  German  Church,  u  All  sor 
row  ought  to  be  Heim-weh^  homesickness."  Let  recon 
ciliation  with  the  Father  be  home,  —  let  the  peace  of 


250      SALVATION,    NOT    FROM    SUFFERING,    BUT    BY    IT. 

faith,  let  the  bosom  of  the  Lord  where  the  head  of  the 
beloved  disciple  lay,  let  present  goodness,  be  home,  as 
well  as.  the  future  heaven,  and  in  the  tender  and  holy 
spirit  of  our  religion  we  may  adopt  the  aphorism.  No 
pain  that  aches  for  immortal  purity  can  be  dreadful.  No 
grief  that  strengthens  your  aspiration  for  triumph  over 
sin,  and  the  holiness  of  Christ's  heart,  can  be  a  calamity. 
Over  no  falling  tears  and  heaving  sighs  that  wash  your 
affections  white,  and  put  temptation  under  your  feet,  and 
throw  open  a  clear  and  fearless  communion  with  God, 
can  you  ever  exclaim,  "  Lord,  if  thou  hadst  been  here, 
these  would  not  have  befallen  me" ;  but  rather,  "  Be  these 
my  perpetual,  solemn  guests,  if  thereby,  in  this  thy  in 
ward  presence,  and  with  these  immortal  gifts,  thou,  my 
Lord,  mayest  be  led  to  draw  nigh,  and  come  to  me  !  " 

Immortal  gifts !  "  This  is  the  victory  that  overcometh 
the  world,  even  your  faith."  There  is  no  one  of  us,  not  the 
weakest,  not  the  timidest,  that  may  not  pass  through  the 
furnace  of  trial,  and  under  the  shadows  of  death,  with  the 
song  of  that  triumph  on  his  lips.  When  a  community  of 
religious  women,  in  Paris,  during  the  fury  of  the  French 
Revolution,  which  swept  innocence  and  beauty  into  one 
destruction  with  crime  and  tyranny,  were  condemned  to 
the  guillotine,  the  -youngest  victims  passed  through  the 
stormy  streets,  where  terror  reigned,  to  their  execution, 
raising  in  serene  voices  the  sublime  hymn,  Veni  Creator. 
Never  before,  the  listeners  thought,  had  that  anthem  of 
majestic  praise  been  so  divinely  sung,  —  so  much  as  if 
the  chant  of  heaven  itself  floated  down  and  mingled  in 
the  melody.  The  celestial  song  did  not  cease  when  they 
ascended  the  stairs  of  the  scaffold,  and  the  work  of  butch 
ery  went  on.  Voice  after  voice  had  to  drop  from  the 
chorus,  as  face  after  face  bent  under  the  axe;  and  at 


SALVATION,  NOT  FROM  SUFFERING,  BUT  BY  IT.  251 

length  one  voice  was  heard  alone  sustaining  the  holy 
strain,  with  no  faltering  or  cadence,  even  while  the  bloody 
blade  fell  and  sealed  the  last  martyr's  testimony.  Not 
by  scaffolds,  not  through  blood,  but  by  silent  martyr 
doms,  by  slow  sufferings,  as  sharp  I  think  sometimes,  and 
needing  the  heroism  of  patience  more,  must  faithful  spir 
its  still  walk  towards  God,  their  hands  in  their  Master's, 
"  Thy  rod  and  thy  staff  comforting." 

Submission  like  this  binds  the  sisters  of  Lazarus  to 
every  mourner  of  to-day ;  for  they  all  stand  in  the  per 
sonal  friendship  of  the  risen  Intercessor.  Jesus  came  to 
his  friend's  grave  and  wept.  O  scene  of  unspeakable 
consolation  under  the  shadow  of  the  Mount  of  Olives ! 
Shed  the  light,  that  broke  there  on  a  weeping  household, 
into  every  kneeling  and  lamenting  family  among  us ! 
Unite  our  kindred,  under  the  dispensation  of  grief,  in  the 
everlasting  sympathy  of  one  Lord  and  one  faith,  with 
that  comforted  house  where  Mary  chose  the  good  part, 
and  felt  safe  at  her  Redeemer's  feet!  Make  us  also 
dwellers  at  Bethany,  because  Christ  comes  again  to  us ; 
and  though  our  brother  dies,  yet  we  know  henceforth  that 
our  Redeemer  liveth,  and  that  whosoever  liveth  and  be- 
lieveth  in  him  shall  never  die ! 

Be  this  our  Easter  thanksgiving!  Be  this  the  conso 
lation  promised  to  them  that  mourn  with  a  disciple's 
trust,  — the  hope  for  the  dead  who  died  in  their  Lord,  — 
the  inspiration  of  the  living  who  have  yet  to  die,  —  that 
immortality  is  brought  to  light,  and  that,  through  suffer 
ing,  souls  may  still  be  made  perfect. 


SERMON    XVIII. 

DIVINITY  OF  CHRIST. 
FOR  IN  HIM  (CHRIST)   DWELLETH   ALL    THE  FULNESS  OF  THE 

GODHEAD   BODILY.  —  Col.  ii.  9. 
ALL    THINGS    THAT    THE   FATHER   HATH  ARE    MINE.  —  John  xvi.  15. 

So  long  as  the  differences  of  opinion  that  obtain  at 
present  respecting  the  rank  and  nature  of  the  Son  of 
God  shall  continue  to  divide  and  interest  those  minds 
that  think  at  all  on  religious  topics,  and  so  long  as  any 
thing  like  the  existing  postures  of  sects  and  doctrines 
shall  remain,  it  can  hardly  be  unreasonable  for  any  man 
to  offer  a  careful  and  deliberate  exposition  of  his  belief 
on  that  subject.  If  we  are  Christians  at  all,  Christ  is  the 
author  and  founder  of  our  faith.  He  is  the  Head  of  that 
Church  into  which  disciples  gather  for  fellowship.  The 
question  what  and  who  he  is,  to  all  persons  of  any  spir 
itual  consciousness,  is  vital  at  every  point,  and  momen 
tous  under  every  aspect. 

There  are  two  prevalent  apprehensions  of  the  charac 
ter  and  office  of  Jesus  as  Saviour  of  the  world.  One 
contemplates  him  as  specially  appointed  to  represent  the 
perfection  of  humanity,  meaning  by  humanity  what  we 
have  hitherto  known  or  conceived  of  the  spiritual  powers 
and  possibilities  in  a  human  being.  This  view  holds 


DIVINITY    OF    CHRIST.  253 

Jesus  to  have  been  a  perfect  man  ;  the  completest  moral 
example  and  religious  genius  of  our  race ;  exhibiting  in 
his  life  and  death  the  utmost  that  human  excellence  can 
do  or  be ;  as  showing  the  ultimate  achievement,  thus  far 
at  least,  of  a  man's  virtue,  love,  and  faith ;  and  as  having 
withdrawn  his  personal  presence  and  power  from  the 
world  at  his  ascension,  so  that  the  communion  of  his  fol 
lowers  is  not  literally  a  communion  with  him,  but  is  only 
a  commemorative  observance  for  a  Teacher  living  on 
earth  in  the  past,  but  retired  now  into  the  heavens. 

The  other  view  regards  Christ  as  showing  forth  not 
only  a  perfect  humanity,  but  also  and  primarily  God  him 
self;  representing  God  to  man,  as  well  as  man  to  him 
self;  being  the  express  image  of  God's  person;  being 
God  in  the  act  and  character  of  revealing  or  manifesting 
himself,  creating  and  saving  the  world ;  separate  at  no 
point  from  God's  sovereignty,  nor  knowing,  in  his  divin 
ity,  any  limitation  or  abridgment  from  the  fulness  of  God ; 
exhibiting,  as  in  God's  behalf,  through  a  union  of  nature 
with  the  Father  not  explicable  to  us,  the  Divine  attri 
butes  ;  and  reconciling  alienated  souls  by  manifesting 
God  in  his  flesh.  According  to  this  doctrine,  he  survives 
in  his  Church  to  this  day,  and  will  survive,  not  only  by 
influence  and  memory,  but  by  the  presence  of  his  person  ; 
a  distinct  and  everlasting  person  in  himself,  without  be 
ginning  of  days  or  end  of  years,  the  same  yesterday,  to 
day,  and  for  ever. 

The  latter  of  these  two  views  appears  to  me  not  only 
incomparably  the  most  benignant  and  precious,  but  to 
stand  towards  the  other  in  the  relation  of  truth  to  error ; 
to  be  charged  with  inestimable  benefits  to  our  religious 
progress ;  to  be  liable  to  fewer  theological  perversions, 
and  less  dangerous  abuses ;  and  to  need  also  that  it  be 
22 


254  DIVINITY    OF    CHRIST. 

more  distinctly  asserted  and  impressed  on  our  present 
habits  of  thinking,  especially  among  the  inquiring  and 
the  young. 

A  common  form  of  stating  the  doctrine,  that  Christ 
was  merely  human,  and  of  denying  him  a  distinctive  Di 
vinity,  is  to  say  that  "  he  was  distinguished  and  exalted 
above  other  men,  not  in  kind,  but  in  degree  only  "  ;  that 
he  transcended  mortals  only  by  an  excess  of  virtue,  not 
by  any  peculiarity  of  being,  not  by  any  singularity  of 
existence,  not  by  a  superhuman  nature.  He  was  purer 
and  holier  than  other  men ;  and  therefore  more  of  the 
Divine  afflatus  flowed  through  his  life. 

Against  this  misconstruction  of  the  whole  foundation- 
work  of  Christian  doctrine,  as  it  seems  to  me,  —  injuri 
ous,  like  most  other  religious  errors,  by  its  issues  in  prac 
tical  piety,  as  weh1  as  radically  mischievous  to  theology, 
comprehensively  mistaking  as  to  the  very  being  and  au 
thority  of  him  who  is  the  centre,  the  fountain,  the  em 
bodiment  of  whatever  we  have  that  we  can  call  religion, 
—  I  raise  a  threefold  objection.  And  I  urge  that  objec 
tion  by  an  appeal  to  the  grand,  threefold  source,  where 
alone  we  can  apply  for  a  final  decision :  the  Word,  or 
the  New  Testament  writings;  History,  or  the  organic 
working  of  Christian  life  through  the  Church  ;  and  the 
Soul,  with  its  best  intuitions  and  its  wants. 

I' should  be  willing,  in  the  appeal  to  that  first  and  chief 
of  all  authorities  and  testimonies,  the  New  Testament, 
to  waive  every  reference  to  the  other  striking  passages 
that  will  appear  in  their  natural  connections  as  we  press 
farther  into  the  subject,  and  to  rest  the  question  on  the 
three  following  explicit  ones  alone.  Just  as  Jesus  was 
opening  his  ministry  at  Jerusalem,  John  the  Forerunner 
said~  of  him  these  plain  words :  "  He  that  cometh  from 


DIVINITY    OF    CHRIST.  255 

heaven  is  above  all.  He  whom  God  hath  sent  speaketh 
the  words  of  God ;  for  God  givetli  not  the  Spirit  by  meas 
ure  unto  him.  He  that  believeth  on  the  Son  hath  ever 
lasting  life  ;  and  he  that  believeth  not  the  Son  shall  not 
see  life."  Were  these  words  spoken  of  an  extraordinary 
mortal,  constituted  and  endowed  no  otherwise  than  as 
you  are  and  I  am  ?  Almost  at  the  same  moment,  Jesus 
was  holding  one  of  his  first  reported  conversations  with 
the  Rabbi  Nicodemus  by  night,  where  he  announces 
some  of  the  sublime  principles  of  his  kingdom,  and  the 
profound  mystery  of  the  second  birth.  And  this  is  the 
well-weighed  avowal  by  which  he  initiates  this  inquiring 
representative  of  the  old  religion  into  the  great  secret  of 
the  new :  "  God  so  loved  the  world,  that  he  gave  his  only 
begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  believeth  in  him  should 
not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  life.  And  he  that  be 
lieveth  not  is  condemned."  Is  this  the  utterance  of  a 
being  who  u  differs  from  other  men  in  degree  only,  but 
not  in  kind "  ?  Many  years  had  passed  since  the  Sav 
iour's  crucifixion ;  the  Gospel  had  been  tested  and  tried 
by  the  terrible  ordeal  of  the  Apostolic  age  ;  and  yet  time 
enough  had  not  passed  to  drift  the  believer  away  from 
his  anchorage  on  the  simplicity  of  the  Master's  original 
teaching;  and  then  one  who  was  able  to  know  whereof 
he  affirmed  wrote  to  the  reluctant  converts  from  Juda 
ism  :  "  God,  who  at  sundry  times  and  in  divers  man 
ners  spake  in  time  past  unto  the  fathers  by  the  Prophets, 
hath  in  these  last  days  spoken  unto  us  by  his  Son  ;  whom 
he  hath  appointed  heir  of  all  things,  by  whom  also  he 
made  the  worlds ;  who,  being  the  brightness  of  his  glory, 
and  the  express  image  of  his  person,  and  upholding  all 
things  by  the  word  of  his  power,  when  he  had  by  him 
self  purged  our  sins,  sat  down  on  the  right  hand  of  the 


256  DIVINITY    OF    CHRIST. 

Majesty  on  high  ;  being  made  so  much  better  than  the 
angels,  as  he  hath  obtained  a  more  excellent  name  than 
they.  For  unto  which  of  the  angels  said  he  at  any  time, 
'  Thou  art  my  Son :  this  day  have  I  begotten  thee '  ?  " 
Which  one,  then,  of  all  the  heroes,  sages,  saints,  of  any 
nation,  commemorated  by  monuments,  by  literature,  by 
private  veneration,  shall  claim  to  be  brother,  in  kind  or 
in  degree,  of  him  whom  even  ah1  the  angels  of  God  are 
commanded  to  worship  ? 

But  I  must  add  here  a  few  of  the  weighty  declarations 
of  Jesus  himself,  so  grand,  so  comprehensive,  so  clear 
and  unhesitating,  so  almost  overwhelming  in  the  solemn 
"awe  they  awaken  while  we  read,  that  to  suppose  them 
uttered  by  any  being  not  divine,  not  an  eternal  dweller 
in  the  very  bosom  and  sonship  of  the  Father,  would  seem 
a  strange  infatuation.  "  All  power  is  given  unto  me,  in 
heaven  and  on  earth"  "  All  things  that  the  Father  hath 
are  mine."  "  Believe  me,  that  I  am  in  the  Father,  and 
the  "Father  in  me."  "  He  that  hath  seen  me,  hath  seen 
the  Father."  "  I  and  my  Father  are  one."  "  The  Fa 
ther  hath  committed  all  judgment  unto  the  Son."  "  If 
ye  shall  ask  anything  in  my  name,  I  will  do  it"  "  As 
the  Father  knoweth  me,  even  so  know  I  the  Father." 
"Thy  sins  are  forgiven  thee."  "I  give. unto  them  eter 
nal  life."  "  No  man  taketh  my  life  from  me ;  I  have 
power  to  lay  it  down,  and  I  have  power  to  take  it  again." 
"  No  man  hath  ascended  up  to  heaven,  but  he  that  came 
down  from  heaven,  even  the  Son  of  Man  which  is  in 
heaven."  As  sure  as  words  have  any  meaning,  these  are 
not  the  words  of  a  man.  They  are  the  words  of  God. 

The  second  appeal  is  to  Christian  History,  or  the  or 
ganic  working  of  Christian  life  through  the  Church.  Be 
gin  where  you  will,  at  any  point  from  the  least  conspic- 


DIVINITY    OF    CHRIST.  257 

uous  movement  of  the  public  mind  in  Christendom 
chronicled  in  last  evening's  newspaper,  up  to  Constan- 
tine's  political  conversion  or  Nerva's  royal  concession, 
and  you  will  find  that,  whether  you  strike  down  below 
the  surface  of  events,  or  reach  out  either  way  to  trace 
their  sequence  and  interdependence,  the  under-tide  that 
bears  all  up  and  sweeps  all  along  is  the  irresistible  cur 
rent  of  Christ's  divine  life.  Changes  with  which  no 
other  change  compares,  revolutions  for  which  no  civil 
revolution  can  account,  impulses  of  thought,  conquests 
of  science,  growths  of  institutions,  marches  of  learning 
and  society,  —  all  testify  that  a  silent  power  was  cradled 
in  the  manger  at  Bethlehem,  which  was  to  dwarf  down 
the  empire  of  Caesars  and  Bonapartes  into  the  puny  dy 
nasties  of  nursery  games.  All  the  growing  multitudes, 
achievements,  industry,  enterprise,  discoveries,  wisdom, 
and  strength  of  the  race,  lift  a  chant  of  thanksgiving  that 
has  grown  louder  from  the  first,  and  is  swelling  still,  to 
proclaim  Christ  the  Divine  Regenerator  of  its  destinies, 
the  Infinite  and  Eternal  Head  over  his  Church. 

The  third  appeal  is  to  the  Soul,  with  its  intuitions  and 
its  wants.  Whenever  it  is  most  deeply  stirred  by  peni 
tence,  or  strained  by  agony,  or  kindled  into  holy  aspira 
tion,  the  spiritual  nature  craves  a  more  intimate  com 
munion  with  God  than  would  be  possible  if  that  God 
had  not  mysteriously  manifested  himself  in  flesh ;  not  a 
sovereign  in  the  skies,  but  a  beating  and  friendly  bosom 
in  Bethany.  It  cries  out  for  the  Christ,  who,  by  bearing 
to  us  the  pity  and  pardon  of  the  Father,  is  Way  and 
Truth  and  Life.  The  individual  heart,  when  it  is  really 
agitated,  whether  by  hope  or  love  or  pain  or  fear,  empha 
sizes  the  promise  of  revelation ;  and  the  longings  of  the 
individual  soul  respond  to  the  broad  verdict  of  history. 

22* 


258  DIVINITY    OF    CHRIST. 

It  confesses,  like  Peter  before  the  persecutors,  that  there 
is  no  other  name  under  heaven,  given  among  men,  where 
by  it  can  be  saved. 

Objectors  start  other  theories.  It  has  been  said,  for  in 
stance,  that  even  in  our  human  nature  there  are  capaci 
ties  so  noble,  and  traits  so  high,  that  we  do  Christ  honor 
enough  when  we  allow  him  to  possess  an  unprecedented 
and  complete  combination  of  them.  I  believe,  on  the 
contrary,  that,  in  the  essential  peculiarity  of  his  nature, 
Christ  is  as  distinct  from  us  as  the  spiritual  nature  in  us 
is  from  the  perishable,  as  God  is  from  man. 

I  acknowledge  that  in  mere  humanity  there  is  "  a  na 
ture  transcendently  great  and  sacred,"  a  nature  so  sur 
passing  the  animal  organization,  so  wonderfully  superior 
to  this  chemical  compound  that  we  call  the  body,  so  far 
outstripping  in  its  reach,  capacity,  and  eternal  duration, 
all  the  energy  and  acuteness  of  physical  sense,  so  fitted 
to  receive  the  impression  and  inspiration  of  God's  Spirit, 
that  it  may  be  even  said,  in  a  certain  liberal  use  of  lan 
guage,  to  be  kindred  to  God,  or,  in  an  Apostle's  vivid 
phrase,  to  be  "  a  partaker  of  the  divine  nature."  Thank 
Christ  also  for  this  very  assurance, — for  without  him 
you  never  could  have  felt  it,  —  that  man  is,  every  man  is, 
immortal  as  well  as  mortal,  a  spirit  as  well  as  dust,  allied 
to  the  Almighty  while  he  is  hastening  to  a  grave.  Re 
joice  in  that  great  boon ;  and  let  the  conscious  dignity 
of  such  a  conviction  bear  you  up  into  a  life  of  lofty  vir 
tue,  that  shall  be  worthy  of  such  a  heritage.  And  yet 
there  is  that  in  Jesus  Christ  which  separates  him  even 
from  this  spiritual  nature  in  humanity,  distinguishes  him 
from  the  best  dignity  in  man,  and  exalts  him  above  even 
our  highest  honors.  There  is  a  line  drawn  between  his 
soul  and  our  souls,  not  cutting  us  off  from  his  perfect 


DIVINITY    OF    CHRIST.  259 

sympathy,  not  barring  us  from  his  fellowship,  not  veiling 
his  face  with  any  dimness  from  ours,  but  marking  us,  in 
our  nature,  as  human  ;  and  him,  in  his  nature,  as  divine. 

We  are  encouraged,  it  is  true,  to  call  ourselves  chil 
dren  of  the  Most  High ;  but  if  we  call  ourselves  so  in  an 
humble  temper,  remembering  what  sins  penitence  has  to 
deplore,  we  shall  never  confound  our  filial  relation  with 
that  of  him  who  could  utter  the  sublime  and  mysterious 
challenge  both  to  philosophy  and  faith,  "  I  and  my  Fa 
ther  are  one."  "  Behold,"  says  an  Apostle,  "  now  are  we 
the  sons  of  God."  But  it  must  be  an  irreverent  self-con 
ceit  and  a  shallow  insight  that  can  mistake  this  thankful 
confession  for  a  bold  assertion  of  the  believer's  equality 
with  him  whom  the  Church  and  the  Gospel  unite  in  re 
vering  as  THE  SON  of  God,  and  who  received  that  ma 
jestic  anointing  and  seal  upon  his  authority,  when  the 
Spirit  descended  visibly  upon  him  in  Jordan,  and  a  voice 
said,  "  This  is  my  Beloved  Son ;  hear  him."  "  Only- 
begotten  Son "  it  is  written  ;  what  means  that  signifi 
cant  word,  "  only-begotten,"  if  Jesus  is  not  a  Son  in  some 
sense  that  we  are  not,  and  never  can  be,  sons  ? 

Another  form  taken  by  the  argument  for  Christ's  sim 
ple  humanity  is  this,  —  that  every  member  of  the  human 
family  is  capable  of  certain  lofty  spiritual  exercises,  is 
visited  by  holy  aspirations,  has  a  moral  sense  that  distin 
guishes  between  right  and  wrong,  and  can  form  "  ideas 
of  truth,  of  justice,  of  holiness."  These  ideas  and  affec 
tions,  it  is  argued,  are  God  within  us ;  because  they  are 
in  harmony  with  his  character,  and  it  is  by  them  that  we 
recognize  his  attributes.  In  Christ  these  moral  ideas 
were  held  with  peculiar  clearness  and  power ;  these  spir 
itual  affections  moved  in  extraordinary  purity  and  con 
stancy.  This  fact,  therefore,  is  held  to  satisfy  all  that 


260  DIVINITY    OF    CHRIST. 

language  of  Christ  and  his  Apostles  where  he  is  declared 
to  be  one  with  God,  and  to  exhaust  the  meaning  of  those 
passages  that  attribute  to  him  a  quite  superhuman  na 
ture.  He  had  in  him  more  of  God  than  we,  only  by  as 
much  as  he  gave  to  those  ideas  and  affections,  possible 
to  him  and  us  alike,  a  fuller  development  than  we. 

Now,  this  explanation  is  as  unsatisfactory  as  the  pre 
ceding:  it  grows  more  and  more  unsatisfactory,  the 
longer  I  study  the  facts  of  Christ's  ministry,  the  words 
spoken  by  him,  or  his  effect  on  the  world.  Those 
facts  are  miraculous,  or  they  are  an  imposition.  Those 
words  are  an  assertion  of  a  union  between  Jesus  and  the 
Father  altogether  peculiar  and  distinctive  and  complete, 
or  they  are  deceptions.  That  effect  on  the  world  must 
be  accounted  for  by  an  agency  behind  it  entirely  above 
all  other  known  .historical  motive  powers ;  or  else  it  is 
brought  about  by  some  artifice  superlatively  cunning,  a 
legerdemain  more  incredible  than  miracle  itself.  The 
facts  :  —  When  I  behold,  through  those  impregnable 
narratives  where  sharp-eyed  and  cavilling  criticism  has 
sought  and  sought  again,  but  never  found,  a  flaw  or  crev 
ice  large  enough  to  enter  one  splitting  wedge,  those  com 
pact  records  where  the  persevering  batteries  of  unbelief, 
shifting  their  point  and  method  of  attack  with  every 
shifting  current  of  sceptical  speculation,  have  never 
opened  a  single- breach,  —  behold  Lazarus  coming  forth 
from  his  grave,  the  dumb  speaking,  the  blind  seeing,  the 
shrunken  hand  of  palsy  full  and  flexible  with  the  circula 
tions  of  health,  the  stone  over  his  own  sepulchre  rolled 
away,  and  doubting  Thomas  putting  his  fingers  into  the 
print  of  the  nails,  his  hand  into  the  spear-wound  in  the 
side,  till  he  exclaims,  "  My  Lord  and  my  God !  "  —  then 
I  am  compelled  to  recognize  a  present  Divinity,  of  which 


DIVINITY    OF    CHRIST.  261 

no  field  of  human  history  anywhere  gives  a  token,  no 
breath  from  any  chamber  of  the  past,  its  marvels  of  lit 
erature,  philosophy,  or  enterprise,  yields  a  whisper.  The 
words  :  —  When  I  hear  him  saying,  not  with  any  trace 
of  fanatical  excitement  or  transient  enthusiasm,  but  with 
that  calm  authority  of  unmistakable  truth  to  which  all  the 
results  unite  in  bearing  confirmation :  "  No  man  knoweth 
the  Father,  but  the  Son ;  the  only-begotten  Son  who  is 
in  the  bosom  of  the  Father,  he  hath  revealed  him";  "Be 
fore  Abraham  was,  I  am "  ;  "I  am  the  resurrection  and 
the  life  "  ;  "  Whosoever  shall  confess  or  deny  me  before 
men,  him  will  I  also  confess  or  deny  before  my  Father 
and  his  angels  "  ;  "I  came  forth  from  God  "  ;  —  then,  lis 
tening  while  he  thus  "  speaks  as  man  never  spake,"  it  is 
as  impossible  for  me  to  doubt  the  authenticity  of  his 
speech  as  it  would  be  irrational  for  me,  admitting  that, 
to  deny  that  there  is  a  proper  Divinity  in  him  that  he  does 
not  share  with  me,  and  that  I  cannot  share  with  him. 
The  effect  on  fhe  world :  —  When  we  have  it  thrust  upon 
our  convictions  by  every  fragment  of  historic  testimony, 
by  even  heathen  Pliny  and  infidel  Gibbon  themselves,  by 
all  monuments  of  human  progress,  and  by  all  the  civili 
zation  of  to-day,  and  all  the  spreading  life  of  the  Church 
always,  that  since  the  moment  when  Christ  came  up  out 
of  the  Jordan,  wet  with  the  baptism  of  John,  and  with 
the  glory  of  his  heavenly  consecration  shining  upon  him, 
a  new  principle  has  been  steadily  working  in  the  heart 
of  human  things,  to  transform  them,  new  in  form  and  in 
spirit,  in  name  and  in  essence ;  —  then  how  are  we  to 
escape  believing,  that,  if  God  was  in  the  building  of  the 
world,  it  was  not  man  that  by  regeneration  created  it 
anew? 

Choose  out  any  of  the  brighter  luminaries  that  have 


262  DIVINITY    OF    CHRIST. 

poured  splendor  on  any  path  of  thought,  or  blessings  on 
any  interest  of  the  world's  welfare,  — 

"  Men  whose  great  thoughts  possess  us  like  a  passion,  — 
Thoughts  which  command  all  coming  times  and  minds  ; 
Whose  names  are  ever  on  the  world's  broad  tongue, 
Like  sound  upon  the  falling  of  a  force ; 
Men  whom  we  build  our  love  round,  like  an  arch 
Of  triumph,  as  they  pass  us  on  their  way 
To  glory  and  to  immortality  " ;  — 

take  the  mightiest  in  influence,  the  richest  in  knowledge, 
the  nimblest  in  genius,  the  purest  in  excellence,  —  Plato 
or  Humboldt  or  Shakespeare  or  Fenelon, —  and  then,  if 
your  reverence  will  bear  the  shock,  imagine  him  using 
any  of  those  majestic  expressions,  respecting  his  origin 
and  his  work,  which  I  have  quoted  from  the  lips  of 
Jesus ;  and,  though  you  had  begun  to  doubt,  you  will  be 
startled  back  into  a  sense  of  the  real  Divinity  of  the  Re 
deemer.  Conceive  that  philosopher,  poet,  or  statesman, 
standing  before  the  Eternal  and  Almighty  Father,  under 
the  shadow  of  impending  death,  and  uttering  that  peti 
tion  in  the  prayer  of  the  Lord,  "  And  now,  O  Father, 
glorify  thou  me  with  thine  own  self,  with  the  glory  which 
I  had  \vith  thee  before  the  world  was ;  for  thou  lovedst 
me  before  the  foundation  of  the  world,"  —  you  will  need 
no  other  proof  how  far  our  idle  speculations  wander  from 
the  awful  bounds  of  truth,  when  we  speak  of  God's  Mes 
siah  as  in  kind  like  men. 

If  our  God  were  only  an  assemblage  of  abstract  quali 
ties  ;  if,  instead  of  looking  to  him  as  a  personal  Friend 
.and  Father,  we  had  regarded  him  as  only  an  agglomera 
tion  of  impersonal  attributes ;  or  if  we  refined  away  our 
feeling  of  trustful  intimacy  towards  him  into  an  intel 
lectual  conception  of  a  Causative  Principle,  —  then  the 


^DIVINITY    OF    CHRIST.  263 

argument  I  have  just  noticed  might  have  some  force. 
All  that  would  be  necessary  to  make  God  manifest, 
either  in  Christ  or  in  ourselves,  would  be  some  appear 
ance  of  those  qualities  or  attributes  in  us ;  and  just  in 
proportion  to  the  degree  in  which  they  appeared,  we 
should  all  be  gods.  But,  if  our  view  of  God's  nature 
and  man's  nature  proceeds  according  to  another  philoso 
phy  than  this  pantheistic  one,  we  shall  presently  be  sat 
isfied,  that,  though  a  man  were  strong,  wise,  just,  and 
good,  up  to  the  full  measure  of  the  possibility  of  his  na 
ture,  and  such  a  pattern  of  all  spiritual  graces  as  should 
equal  the  Christian  standard  itself,  yet  he  would  be  as 
far  from  participating  in  the  essential  and  incomprehen 
sible  nature  of  the  Deity  as  every  other  man ;  simply  be 
cause  his  constitution  is  human ;  because,  being  human, 
he  is  made  subject  to  certain  limitations  of  ability ;  and 
because  every  finite  being  is  psychologically  separated  by 
an  impassable  gulf  from  the  Infinite.  Christ  was  not  so 
separated.  He  was  one  with  the  Father,  in  a  sense  and 
a  way  that  we  cannot  be  one  with  Him,  —  in  a  oneness 
which  is  at  once  the  secret  of  the  Mediatorship,  the  key 
to  the  Gospel,  the  ground  and  hope  of  our  final  reconcil 
iation  with  both  ;  and,  moreover,  it  is  of  the  "  person"  of 
God  that  he  is  "  the  express  image."  The  ancient  seers 
saw  his  glory.  Through  him  Moses  received  his  com 
mission, — 

"  Light  of  the  Prophets'  learned  lore ! 
Lord  of  the  Patriarchs  gone  before ! " 

Our  charter  for  the  liberty  of  this  inspiring  doctrine  is 
the  whole  tone  pervading  the  New  Testament,  from  the 
announcement  of  the  Spirit  to  Mary  the  mother, — 
"  That  holy  thing  which  shall  be  born  of  thee  shall  be 
called  the  Son  of  God ;  and  of  his  kingdom  there  shall 


264  DIVINITY    OF    CHRIST. 

be  no  end,"  —  down  to  the  last  benediction  of  the  Apoc 
alypse,  in  the  name  of  "  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ."  It  is  in 
the  language  express  and  general,  it  is  in  the  breath  and 
spirit,  it  is  in  the  precept  and  the  sanctions,  of  the  whole 
Christian  revelation.  If  you  ask  for  it  in  a  single  sen 
tence,  you  find  it  gathered  up  into  that  comprehensive 
declaration,  "  I  and  my  Father  are  one,"  or,  "  No  man 
can  come  unto  the  Father  but  by  me."  I  believe,  there 
fore,  —  I  cannot  but  believe,  —  I  am  as  unable  as  I  am 
undesirous  to  doubt,  —  that,  in  regard  to  that  deep,  wide 
line  that  distinguishes  the  Infinite  from  the  finite  and  the 
Divine  from  the  human,  Christ  the  Redeemer  does  not 
stand  by  his  nature  on  the  human  side.  I  discover  no 
way  in  which  an  estranged,  lost  family  on  earth,  not 
knowing  God  by  all  its  wisdom,  and  condemned  by  a 
law  which  it  had  not  power  or  will  to  keep,  could  be 
raised,  restored,  and  justified,  but  by  one  who  should 
bring  the  Deity  to  the  earth,  while  he  lifts  up  man  to 
wards  Deity.  The  Redeemer  must  make  God  manifest 
in  the  flesh,  mediate  between  Heaven  and  humanity, 
show  us  the  Father  to  move  and  melt  the  child. 

There  can  be  no  half-way  statement  here,  without  a 
wrong  to  philosophy  and  faith  both.  That  in  Christ 
which  is  not  human  is  God,  —  verily,  literally,  and  strict 
ly  God ;  as  truly  God,  and  in  the  same  sense  God,  as  the 
Father  is  God.  All  the  biblical  language  seems  to  me 
to  preclude  the  conception  of  any  intermediate  nature. 
He  is  spoken  of  as  man,  and  he  is  spoken  of  as  God. 
That  mystery  is  insoluble  to  the  understanding.  But 
this  is  clear :  while  God,  to  whom  all  things  are  possible, 
may  enter  into  human  conditions,  and  pass  through  a 
human  experience,  and  thus  "  become  man,"  man  can  in 
no  sense  become  God.  The  difficulties  in  the  way  of 


DIVINITY    OF    CHRIST.  265 

receiving  our  Lord  and  Saviour  as  God  are  as  nothing 
compared  with  the  difficulty  in  receiving  him  as  not 
God ;  nay,  Faith  joyfully  finds  that  she  has  made  them 
to  be,  not  difficulties,  but  blessed  and  simple  and  gracious 
helps  to  holiness.  For  "  in  him  dwelleth  all  the  fulness 
of  the  Godhead  bodily." 

I  am  not  unfamiliar  with  the  several  interpretations 
affixed  to  the  passages  cited,  by  those  who  would  dis 
charge  them  of  the  contents  I  have  found  in  them,  and 
reduce  them  to  a  consistency  with  the  humanitarian  or 
the  Arian  theory.  It  is  doubtful,  judging  by  experience, 
whether  it  avails  much  to  undertake  a  refutation  of  these 
interpretations  in  detail,  before  the  heart,  by  another  and 
a  surer  process,  is  brought  to  an  inevitable  persuasion  of 
their  insufficiency.  They  will  satisfy,  till  some  special 
exigency  of  spiritual  experience  dissolves  them  in  its  po 
tent  alembic ;  and  then  they  look  as  unengaging  to  the 
affections  as  they  do  forced  and  unnatural  to  the  under 
standing. 

If,  now,  any  critical  mind  is  asking  what  the  way  and 
method  of  this  union  between  Jesus  and  the  Father  are, 
as  if  some  logical  difficulty  there  were  sure  to  baffle  my 
conclusion,  and  win  a  triumph  over  faith,  let  me  frankly 
confess,  that  no  inability  of  mine  to  make  full  answer 
embarrasses  me,  nor  compromises  my  doctrine. 

Into  the  interior  relations  of  the  Infinite  One  no  mor 
tal  understanding  can  penetrate.  What  are  the  celestial 
adjustments  of  these  revealed  personalities ;  what  are 
the  modes  of  intercommunication  between  the  Father 
and  the  Son  ;  in  what  sense  he  who  expressly  says,  with 
a  clearness  of  authority  that  no  human  intelligence  dares 
to  question,  that  all  power  in  heaven  and  earth  are  his, 

23 


266  DIVINITY    OF    CHRIST. 

can  yet  have  that  power  "  given  "  to  him  ;  how  he  who 
could  say,  "  Before  Abraham  was,  I  AM,"  could  also  say, 
"  Of  that  day  and  that  hour  knoweth  no  man,  no,  not  the 
angels  which  are  in  heaven,  neither  the  Son,  but  the 
Father  "  ;  in  what  character,  or  referring  to  what  office, 
that  Lord  of  all,  by  whom  the  worlds  were  made  and  by 
whom  mankind  are  to  be  judged,  could  declare,  "  My 
Father  is  greater  than  I "  ;  how  it  could  be  that  he  who 
was  in  the  beginning  with  God,  and  "  was  God,"  should 
yet  enter  a  child's  frame,  be  born  of  a  woman,  be  made 
under  the  Law,  pass  through  a  mortal  experience,  eat 
and  sleep,  be  tempted,  and  pray  and  die ;  in  what  man 
ner  it  was  that  he  who  thus  shows  himself  eternally 
one  with  the  Father  could  voluntarily  veil  some  things, 
as  it  were,  from  his  own  mind,  and,  in  the  wonderful- 
ness  of  his  condescension  and  the  humility  of  his  Son- 
ship,  lay  aside  for  a  time,  not  only  "  the  glory  that  he 
had  before  the  world  was,"  but  his  vision  of  some  things 
that  the  Father  hath  hid  in  his  power; — these  are  secrets. 
I  cannot  fathom  them.  Let  me  say,  I  rejoice  that  I  can 
not.  I  gratefully  adore  that  incomprehensible  existence, 
—  the  Father  in  the  Son  and  the  Son  in  the  Father.  It 
is  the  life,  the  power,  the  spiritual  grandeur,  the  one  dis 
tinguishing  fact  and  transcendent  glory  of  the  Christian 
faith.  To  me  Christianity  could  not  be  without  it. 
A  God  without  unfathomable  realities  in  the  contents  of 
his  nature  would  be  no  God,  just  as  a  religion  without 
mystery  would  be  no  religion.  In  the  one  case  we 
should  be  orphans,  as  in  the  other  we  should  be  sceptics, 
faithless  and  forlorn. 

If  it  be  suggested  that  these  gracious  mysteries  are 
of  a  character  so  different  from  other  mysteries  in  the 
Divine  nature  and  proceeding,  that  we  ought  to  reject 


DIVINITY    OP    CHRIST.  267 

them,  I  find  nothing  in  that  statement  that  gains  my 
assent.  I  find  no  more  reason,  on  that  ground,  for 
rejecting  them,  than  for  rejecting  the  being  of  a  self- 
existent  God,  the  connection  of  spirit  with  matter,  the 
creation  of  a  planet,  the  consistency  of  the  Almighty's 
power  and  love  with  the  prevalence  of  evil.  In  one  or 
another  of  these  facts  I  discover  what  is  just  as  difficult 
to  my  comprehension,  what  is  just  as  perplexing  to  my 
intelligence,  what  just  as  much  baffles  my  reason  and 
contradicts  my  experience,  as  in  the  equally  well-authen 
ticated  facts  of  the  incarnation,  or  the  subjection  of  a 
divine  Christ  to  the  forms  and  limitations  of  a  human 
experience.  Indeed,  it  would  seem  far  more  unreason 
able  to  attempt  getting  clear  of  the  difficulties  by  sup 
posing  Christ  to  be  wholly  human,  than  by  supposing  him 
to  be  wholly  divine  ;  because  we  should  not  only  have 
equally  grave  difficulties  to  dispose  of  in  the  record,  but 
others  more  formidable  in  the  moral  problem  of  the  uni 
verse",  the  history  of  God's  dealings  with  men,  and  the 
actual  consequences  of  Christ's  Mediator  ship.  What  was 
wanted  was  a  Saviour  corning  forth  out  of  the  Godhead, 
"  very  God  of  very  God,"  at  once  divine  in  his  nature 
and  human  in  his  sympathies,  to  restore,  to  redeem,  to 
rescue  man  from  himself,  —  to  heal  a  fatal  alienation,  to 
put  lost  man  and  the  Holy  Father  at  one  again.  Who 
else  but  God  manifest  in  human  flesh  was  competent  to 
this  ?  While  accomplishing  it,  is  it  very  strange  that  he 
should  sometimes  speak  of  himself,  in  this  condescend 
ing  and  peculiar  office,  as  unable  to  know  or  to  do  cer 
tain  things  as  of  himself  without  the  Father,  with  whom 
he  ever  dwells  in  perfect  oneness,  each  in  each  ;  or  that 
in  this  human  sojourn  he  should  declare  himself  depend 
ent  on  that  whole  and  undivided  Deity,  that  entireness 


268  DIVINITY    OF    CHRIST. 

of  the  Godhead,  from  which  he  came  forth  into  the 
world  ?  For  that  also,  and  for  all  the  blessed  spiritual 
comfort,  light,  strength,  hope,  assurance,  promise,  salva 
tion,  it  gives  us,  let  us  be  humbly  and  most  devoutly 
thankful.  And  let  us  look  reverently  up  to  that  Lord 
and  Redeemer  who  in  the  beginning  "  was  God,"  —  who 
left  the  Father's  bosom  for  our  deliverance  from  the  law 
of  sin  and  death,  —  who  hath  ascended  up  where  he 
was  before,  —  who  has  put  it  past  all  doubt  or  question 
that  he  and  his  Father  are  one,  —  and  who  with  that 
Father  reigns  in  consubstantial  glory,  ever  one  God, 
world  without  end. 

First  among  the  obvious,  practical  effects  of  this  doc 
trine  on  the  spiritual  life,  stands  this,  that  it  seems  to  be 
true ;  and,  in  the  simple  economy  of  God,  truth  always 
blesses,  liberates,  and  cleanses  him  that  holds  it,  by  the 
same  law  that  error  curses,  cramps,  and  destroys. 

It  stimulates  our  virtue,  too,  and  our  aspiration,  by 
making  us  followers  of  a  Master  whom  no  attainments 
of  ours  can  overtake,  and  holding  up  ever  before  us  a  liv 
ing  standard,  unattainable  in  its  loftiness,  while  conde 
scending,  with  infinite  compassion,  to  our  finite  strength. 
Approach  him  indefinitely  we  may  in  goodness ;  and  yet 
the  reverence  of  our  discipleship  finds  nurture  in  this, 
that  there  is  something  within  him  that  we  can  never 
compass.  We  must  learn  to  dismiss  it  as  a  false  feeling, 
that,  in  order  to  copy  our  Saviour's  example,  we  must 
equal  his  dignity ;  that,  to  render  him  imitable,  he  must 
dwell  on  the  level  of  our  natures.  Imitation  for  his  holi 
ness,  but  homage  for  his  Divinity. 

And,  then,  what  encouragement  is  there  for  our  trust 
ful  gratitude  that  we  are  left  to  no  painful  questioning, 
whether  Christ's  word  is  God's  word,  Christ's  promises 


DIVINITY    OF    CHRIST. 


269 


sustained  by  Almighty  veracity,  Christ's  reconciling  invi 
tation  pledged  by  the  Father's  power  ?  Faith  is  made 
independent  of  doubt;  and  Hope  casts  her  anchor  fast 
by  the  pillars  of  heaven. 

Because  Christ  is  the  brightness  of  God's  glory,  and 
the  express  image  of  his  person,  we  know  that  our  sacra 
ment  is  no  cold  memorial,  our  comrrtunion  no  funereal 
pomp ;  but  that  the  Master  himself,  as  actual  a  person 
there  as  at  the  upper  chamber,  presides  at  the  feast,  and 
the  very  presence  of  his  affectionate  spirit  welcomes  us 
to  a  joyful  participation. 

The  whole  circle  of  Christian  doctrines  clusters  togeth 
er; —  repentance,  newness  of  life,  reconciliation  by  the 
Mediator,  the  Saviour's  Divinity,  forgiveness,  and  accept 
ance  with  God.  Let  us  bind  them  in  one  unbroken 
clasp  about  our  hearts ;  live  as  children  of  the  light  they 
shed ;  exemplify  the  whole  religion  of  him  whose  image, 
"the  brightness  of  the  Father's  glory,"  is  the  centre  of 
them  all.  Bear  abroad  his  spirit,  the  spirit  that  purifies 
uncleanness,  heals  injustice,  emancipates  the  slave, 
quenches  strife,  humbles  pride,  works  by  love,  makes 
man  the  brother  of  man.  And  may  his  oneness  with 
God  bring  our  souls  to  his  Father  and  ours ! 

The  chief  charm  of  these  high  views  of  Christ  is,  that 
they  do,  wherever  they  are  welcomed  into  the  soul,  un 
speakably  strengthen  goodness,  encourage  feeble  resolu 
tions,  redouble  zeal,  enliven  the  Church,  bless  and  adorn 
the  world  with  the  fruit  of  righteousness.  For  there  is 
no  spring  to  individual  excellence  like  the  feeling  of  the 
pure  presence  and  personal  intercessions  of  the  Divine 
Master.  There  is  no  power  to  rouse  and  melt  the  sin 
ning  soul  of  unbelief  like  the  condescension  of  that 
tender  Redeemer,  who  left  the  glory  on  high,  with  a 

23* 


270 


DIVINITY    OF    CHRIST. 


promise  of  pardon  in  his  hand,  for  the  bitterness  of  Geth- 
semane  and  the  anguish  of  the  cross.  There  is  no 
glance  for  reverent  eyes  across  the  great  fields  of  history 
so  satisfying  and  so  self-consistent,  as  that  which  beholds 
him,  by  whom  it  is  revealed  that  God  hath  made  the 
world  and  will  judge  all,  administering  the  wrhole  spirit 
ual  government  of  our  race,  from  Alpha  to  Omega. 
There  is  no  seed  of  noble  works  between  man  and 
man  so  fruitful  as  a  hearty  faith  in  the  charity  and  the 
purity  of  the  Christ  who  took  our  flesh.  So  it  was,  in 
the  wonderful  adaptations  and  attuning  of  our  nature,  — 
we  know  not  altogether  why,  but  we  thank  God  it  was 
so,  —  that  but  through  him  God  was  not  to  be  brought 
to  man.  That  is  our  redemption.  It  is  the  final  recon 
ciliation  of  Earth  with  Heaven.  Christ  is  the  wisdom  of 
God,  and  the  power  of  God,  unto  salvation,  to  all  them 
that  believe.  We  must  heed  both  parts  of  John's  two 
fold  exhortation,  —  "  Believe  in  the  Son  of  God,"  and 
"  love  one  another."  And  so  in  the  blessed  communion 
of  his  Church,  where  he  dwells,  looking  along  the  line 
of  that  bright  order  of  Revelation,  —  the  one  God,  the 
Saviour  coming  forth  out  of  the  glory  of  his  bosom,  and 
the  Comforter  which  Christ  sendeth  evermore, — we  can 
gratefully  take  up  the  anthems  of  the  elder  time,  and 
say :  "  All  praise  and  dominion  to  Him  that  sitteth  on 
the  throne,  and  unto  the  Lamb  !  "  "  Glory  be  to  the 
Father,  and  to  the  Son,  and  to  the  Holy  Spirit !  " 


SERMON    XIX. 

DOCTRINE  OF  THE  SPIRIT. 

NOW  THE  GOD  OF  HOPE  FILL  YOU  WITH  ALL  JOY  AND  PEACE 
IN  BELIEVING,  THAT  YE  MAY  ABOUND  IN  HOPE,  THROUGH  THE 
POWER  OF  THE  HOLY  GHOST. — Eom.  XV.  13. 

IT  is  a  fact  of  some  significance,  that  both  the  form  of 
words  which  Jesus  enjoined  to  be  used  in  administering 
baptism,  and  the  apostolic  benedictions,  associate  the 
name  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  or  the  Holy  Ghost,  —  for  the 
word  in  the  original  is  the  same,  —  with  those  of  the  Fa 
ther  and  Christ.  It  is  also  noticeable,  that,  although  the 
same  term  had  been  but  rarely  employed  earlier  in  the 
Scriptures,  and  then  evidently  in  a  somewhat  more  gen 
eral  sense,  as  applicable  to  the  ordinary  influence  of  the 
Almighty  energy,  yet,  with  the  opening  of  the  Christian 
dispensation  proper,  it  begins  to  bear  a  more  specific  and 
emphatic  meaning  ;  to  be  more  copiously  used  as  a  sa 
cred  household  word,  very  precious  to  the  believer  ;  and 
to  imply,  as  the  least  thoughtful  reader  can  see,  a  pecu 
liar  element  of  power  introduced  by  Christ.  Add  to  these 
considerations,  that  Paul  refers  four  great  internal  states 
and  powers  of  the  soul  —  joy,  peace,  faith,  and  hope 
—  to  this  creative  operation,  and  no  other  reason  will  be 
wanted  for  a  wakeful  inquiry  into  its  import.  It  states 


272  DOCTRINE    OF    THE    SPIRIT. 

one  of  the  living  ideas  that  are  indispensable  to  the 
prosperity  and  purity  of  the  Church. 

The  true  construction  of  a  doctrine  like  this  can  only 
be  settled  by  a  reverential  appeal  to  the  New  Testament. 
A  proud  understanding  is  not  competent  to  handle  it. 
Faith  in  it  depends  more  on  a  teachable  and  worship 
ping  heart  than  an  ingenious  brain.  No  man  can  come 
to  Christ,  except  he  will  let  the  Father  draw  him.  All 
spiritual  truths  look  dim  to  a  worldly  and  irreligious 
mind.  You  may  pronounce  the  influence  of  the  Spirit  a 
mystery,  and  so  reject  it  from  your  confidence  ;  but  you 
will  find  facts  are  mysterious,  very  much  in  proportion  as 
they  are  unfamiliar.  Mysteries  lie  all  about  us.  You 
cannot  take  a  step  without  planting  your  foot  on  a  mys 
tery.  The  passage  of  your  voice  to  my  hearing  involves 
a  mystery  :  tell  me  how  a  vibration  of  the  air  commu 
nicates  one  man's  thoughts  to  the  sensorium  of  another, 
and  how  your  intelligent  commerce  with  the  world  is 
carried  on  through  about  two  pounds  and  a  half  of  ner 
vous  matter  in  the  cavity  of  your  skull,  and  I  might,  or  I 
might  not,  be  able  to  unfold  to  you  how  the  Comforter 
quickens  the  soul.  "  The  wind  bloweth  where  it  list- 
eth,"  —  this  was  Christ's  own  comparison,  —  "  and  thou 
hearest  the  sound  thereof ;  but  canst  not  tell  whence  it 
cometh,  or  whither  it  goeth.  So  is  every  one  that  is 
born  of  the  Spirit." 

And  so,  to  a  sordid  mind,  never  suffered  to  break  away 
from  the  low  enslavement  of  material  interests,  the  whole 
doctrine  of  the  Holy  Spirit  becomes  a  strange  jargon,  as 
absurd  to  the  sensual  comprehension  as  it  is  undesired 
by  earthly  affections  ;  and  the  very  language  in  which  it 
is  set  forth,  an  unknown  tongue.  We  might  as  well  ex 
pect  a  deaf  man  to  analyze  the  composition  of  Handel's 


DOCTRINE    OF    THE    SPIRIT.  273 

Oratorio  of  the  Messiah,  as  that  our  minds,  in  unrenewed 
and  unbelieving  moods,  should  recognize  the  reasonable 
ness  of  our  being  visited,  or  cheered,  or  regenerated  by 
the  Holy  Ghost. 

Admit  this  principle,  and  it  is  obvious  that,  to  prejudge 
a  spiritual  doctrine,  at  the  outset,  by  some  worldly  stand 
ard,  is  not  the  way  of  candid  investigation.  The  very 
property  which  most  distinguishes  faith  is,  that  it  lays 
hold  on  matters  which  transcend  all  sensible  demonstra 
tion.  If  I  wait  for  such  demonstration  before  I  deter 
mine  what  to  receive  as  truth  within  the  circle  of  my 
beliefs,  and  what  to  debar  from  it,  then  I  forsake  the 
ground  of  faith  at  once,  and  come  upon  the  ground  of 
ocular  proofs  or  scientific  inductions  ;  proceeding  not  by 
faith  any  longer,  but  by  sight,  which  is  a  distinct  princi 
ple,  and  a  lower  one.  By  that  rule,  the  less  faith  men 
should  have,  the  less  religious  truth  there  would  be  ;  the 
further  their  habits  got  estranged  from  a  religious  life, 
the  less  would  God  require  of  them  ;  and,  in  order  to 
escape  their  obligation  to  his  law,  they  would  only  need 
to  neglect  and  forget  it.  It  is  no  .anomaly  in  science, 
any  more  than  in  religion,  for  a  truth  to  look  unreason 
able  just  to  the  degree  that  it  is  held  off  at  a  distance. 
It  must  be  studied  into,  to  appear  intelligible  ;  and  be 
brought  near  to  the  heart,  to  appear  rational.  The  real 
question,  then,  stands,  —  Is  the  doctrine  before  us  ad 
dressed  to  our  spiritual  insight  and  our  faith  by  the 
Evangelists  ?  All  our  short-sighted  imaginings  apart, 
what  do  they  teach  ? 

The  essential  feature  of  the  New  Testament  doctrine 
of  the  Spirit,  as  it  appears  to  me,  is  that  the  coming  of 
the  Paraclete  is  inseparably  connected  with  the  media 
torial  office  of  Christ ;  that  the  Holy  Ghost  is  sent  by  the 


274  DOCTRINE    OF    THE    SPIRIT. 

Saviour  in  such  a  sense  as  not  to  be  fully  received  till 
he  is  glorified,  nor  otherwise  than  by  faith  in  him ;  and 
therefore  that  this  office  of  the  Spirit  is  something,  by  its 
conditions  and  its  nature,  peculiar  to  the  ministry  of  re 
demption,  not  to  be  confounded  with  the  ordinary  effects 
of  Divine  power  in  nature,  and  least  of  all  to  be  treated 
as  only  one  among  the  vague  influences  found,  by  a 
poetic  sentiment,  a  half- Pantheistic  reverie,  or  a  feeble 
sense  of  elevation  or  comfort,  in  the  presence  of  impos 
ing  scenery,  in  "  the  light  of  setting  suns,"  in  the  serene 
magnificence  of  midnight,  in  the  majesty  of  mountains, 
or  the  blossoming  of  the  clover,  —  favored  by  a  tranquil 
posture  of  the  nerves.  This  necessary  and  peculiar  con 
nection,  in  the  Evangelical  representation,  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  with  the  reconciliation  of  the  cross,  has  fallen  so 
generally  out  of  recognition,  in  much  preaching,  as  to 
enfeeble  the  force  of  the  truth,  and  reduce  the  common 
notion  held  in  some  of  our  churches  to  the  level  of  mere 
naturalism. 

The  principal  passages  of  the  Saviour's  instructions, 
where  the  promise  of  his  own  continued  relation  to  the 
body  of  his  Church,  and  of  the  coming  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  are  contained,  are  the  fourteenth,  fifteenth,  and 
sixteenth  chapters  of  John.  Detached  entirely  from 
one  another,  these  passages  offer  difficulties.  Each  of 
them,  taken  separately,  presents  a  truth  of  precious 
significance  to  the  religious  affections  ;  but  they  need 
to  be  compared,  collated,  and  held  up  in  each  other's 
light,  in  order  to  yield  a  self-consistent  and  complete 
doctrine. 

Let  it  be  remembered,  that  this  whole  discourse  of 
Jesus  was  occasioned  by  the  sorrow  and  the  apprehen 
sions  of  his  disciples,  because  he  had  said  to  them,  "  I  go 


DOCTRINE    OF    THE    SPIRIT.  275 

away."  *  From  the  comforting  words,  "  Let  not  your 
heart  be  troubled,"  throughout,  it  has  this  bearing :  it 
aims  to  assure  them  that  they  shall  lose  none  of  the  spirit 
ual  benefits  of  his  presence,  if  only  they  will  have  faith 
in  him  as  before.  Scattered  through  it,  we  find  these 
several  distinct  declarations  :  —  1.  Christ  predicts  that,  in 
some  sense,  he  is  about  to  depart  from  the  society  of  his 
followers  :  "  I  go,"  he  says,  "  unto  my  Father."  This 
refers,  I  suppose,  simply  to  the  withdrawal  of  his  bodily 
presence,  —  the  disappearance  of  that  form  of  Hebrew 
flesh  and  blood,  through  which  he  had  hitherto  been 
manifested  to  the  world,  but  which,  if  suffered  to  remain 
longer,  would  prove  a  veil  f  before  his  real  and  spirit 
ual  glory,  and  contract  the  universality  of  his  religion. 
2.  -He  promises  that  he  shall  come  again,  and  dwell  con 
stantly  with  them :  "  I  will  not  leave  you  comfortless ;  I 
will  come  to  you  " ;  "  He  that  hath  my  commandments, 
and  keepeth  them,  I  will  manifest  myself  to  him,  and  my 
Father  will  love  him,  and  we  will  come  unto  him,  and 
make  our  abode  with  him."  This  can  mean  nothing 
else  than  that  he,  the  person  Jesus,  after  his  bodily  de 
parture,  would  yet  hold  conscious  relations  with  his  true 
Church,  not  visible  to  the  fleshly  eyes,  but  felt  in  the 
quickening  energy  of  his  Spirit,  and  bestowing  the  in 
ward  influence  of  his  affection  on  the  believing  heart. 
For,  3.  He  speaks  of  these  particular  offices  which  he 
will  perform,  in  the  further  exercise  of  his  Messiahship : 
"  Whatsoever  ye  shall  ask  in  my  name,  that  will  I  do" 
"  Without  me,  ye  can  do  nothing."  4.  He  declares  that 
a  Comforter  shall  come,  —  a  new  Presence,  to  guide, 
strengthen,  and  assure  them,  in  the  difficulties  of  their 

*  John  xiii.  33,  36. 

t  8ia  TOV  KaraTrcracr/iaros,  TOVT  eon,  rrjs  (rapKos  avrov.     Heb.  x.  20. 


276  DOCTRINE    OF    THE    SPIRIT. 

ministry ;  and  that  this  Comforter  shall  be  sent  to  them 
by  the  Father  in  Christ's  name  :  "  I  will  pray  the  Father, 
and  he  shall  give  you  another  Comforter,  that  he  may 
abide  with  you  for  ever,  even  the  Spirit  of  Truth,  —  and 
he  shall  be  in  you  "  ;  "  The  Comforter,  which  is  the  Holy 
Ghost,  whom  the  Father  will  send  in  my  name,  he  shall 
bring  all  things  to  your  remembrance,  whatsoever  I  have 
said  unto  you."  5.  He  teaches  that  this  Comforter 
shall  also  be  sent  by  himself,  though  proceeding,  as  just 
shown,  from  the  Father :  "  When  the  Comforter  is 
come,  whom  I  will  send  unto  you  from  the  Father, 
which  proceedeth  from  the  Father,  he  shall  testify  of  me." 
Again :  "  It  is  expedient  for  you  that  I  go  away  ;  but,  if 
I  depart,  I  will  send  the  Comforter  unto  you."  6.  This 
Comforter  is  to  bring  blessings  equally  from  the  Father 
and  the  Son  ;  for  says  Jesus :  "  He  shall  not  speak  of 
himself;  but  whatsoever  he  shall  hear,  that  shall  he 
speak  :  he  shall  glorify  me  ;  for  he  shall  receive  of  mine, 
and  shall  show  it  unto  you.  All  things  that  the  Father 
hath  are  mine  ;  therefore  said  I  that  he  shall  take  of 
mine,  and  shall  show  it  unto  you."  * 

From  these  six  propositions,  different  in  form,  but 
capable  of  being  so  reconciled  as  to  be  one  in  substance, 
we  deduce  the  whole  doctrine  on  the  subject.  They 
exhaust  the  statement  of  it ;  and  every  other  expression 


*  Justin  Martyr  speaks  of  the  Holy  Ghost  as  "  the  Power  of  God  sent  to 
us  through  Jesus  Christ"  (Dial.  c.  Tryph.),  but  elsewhere  as  one  of  the 
"  host  of  angels."  According  to  Origen,  the  Holy  Ghost  is  "  the  first  being, 
or  nature,  produced  by  God  the  Father,  through  the  Son."  The  Latin 
Church  did  not  assert  the  double  procession  from  the  Father  and  the  Son  till 
the  ninth  century.  It  was  many  years  after  the  promulgation  of  the  Constan- 
tinopolitan  Creed,  before  the  word  filioque  was  inserted  into  it.  This  word, 
and  its  doctrine,  made  one  of  the  five  charges  of  heresy  brought  against  the 
Western  Church  by  Photius  the  Patriarch. 


DOCTRINE    OP    THE    SPIRIT.  277 

in  the  New  Testament  is  in  harmony  with  them.  That 
doctrine  can  be  no  other,  it  seems  to  us,  than  this :  that, 
after  the  body  of  Jesus  should  be  removed  from  the 
Church,  he  should  still  continue  to  carry  on  the  spiritual 
work  of  renewing,  sanctifying,  and  saving  souls,  —  which 
is  his  eternal  ministry,  —  the  Church  itself  thus  becoming 
the  body  of  his  Spirit,  that  visible,  but  he  indwelling,  yet 
manifest  still  in  the  fruits  of  holy  love  and  life  ;  that,  in 
thus  acting  on  the  spirits  of  believers,  in  answer  to  pray 
er,  the  Son,  and  the  Father  who  sent  him,  are  together, 
united  in  counsel  and  one  in  purpose  ;  and  that  the 
Agent,  now  first  distinctly  revealed  to  men,  by  which 
they  thus  move  and  draw  and  change  the  heart,  is  the 
Holy  Spirit,  but  also  known  as  the  Comforter,  the  Para 
clete,  the  Spirit  of  Truth,  and  the  Holy  Ghost. 

Let  us  now  bring  together,  in  as  condensed  and  clear 
a  paraphrase  as  possible,  these  scattered  statements  of 
Jesus  and  the  Evangelist,  so  as  to  exhibit  a  connected  ex 
position  of  the  truth.  "  In  my  Father's  house  are  many 
mansions  ;  I  go  there  to  prepare  a  place  for  you.  But 
this  my  absence  will  not  separate  my  spirit  from  yours. 
It  is  expedient  for  you,  both  to  try  your  faith  by  leaving 
you  to  stand  alone,  and  to  prevent  my  religion  from 
being  limited  by  my  bodily  presence  and  associations.* 
Yet  I  will  not  leave  you  wholly  alone  and  comfortless. 
Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled  or  afraid  at  the  thought 
of  that  distressing  solitude.  I  will  come  to  you  again 
invisibly,  and  cause  my  spirit  to  abide  with  you,  in  all 
your  holy  labors,  for  ever.  Be  encouraged :  my  Father 
also  will  abide  with  you,  as  he  does  now.  Only  love 
me,  and  keep  my  sayings,  and  you  shall  feel  me  with 

*  "  Si  carni  carnaliter  haeseritis,  capaces  Spiritus  non  eritis."  —  Augustine. 
24 


278  DOCTRINE    OF    THE    SPIRIT. 

you.  Pray  to  the  Father  in  my  name  ;  I  also  will  pray 
for  you ;  and  the  Father,  who  is  one  with  me,  will  an 
swer  you  through  me  Thus  I  will  continue  to  bring 
you  his  blessings.  No  longer  in  this  frame  of  flesh,  but 
by  a  certain  interior  sense  awakened  in  your  regenerate 
souls,*  quite  as  quick  as  the  natural  eye,  I  will  manifest 
myself  to  you,  —  to  the  true  disciples  in  my  Church, 
hereafter,  as  now.  But  inasmuch  as  the  mode  of  this 
manifestation  is  to  be  changed,  —  to  be  inward,  and  not 
outward,  —  you  are  to  know  this  continued  and  united 
presence  of  my  Father  and  myself,  through  a  new  Agent, 
— the  Holy  Spirit,  the  Comforter.  He  shall  visit  and  re 
new  you,  and  be  your  refreshing.  He  shall  carry  forward 
the  work  of  salvation  which  I  have  begun  in  the  body. 
Pray  for  the  Holy  Spirit.  The  world,  that  is,  men  of 
worldly  tastes  and  gross  desires,  cannot  understand  this 
promise.  The  world  receiveth  not  this  Holy  Spirit, 
neither  knoweth  him,  as  it  has  not  received  me  hitherto, 
but  goeth  about  to  crucify  me.  That  earthly  and  sinful 
temper  He  will  reprove  ;  convicting  it  of  sin,  showing  it 
righteousness,  and  bringing  it  to  judgment.  But  on  you 
He  will  so  act  as  to  teach  and  inspire  you,  bringing  to 
your  remembrance  all  the  things  that  I  have  said  to  you 
with  this  mortal  tongue.  So  he  shall  testify  of  me.  I 
shall  indeed  be  with  him,  and  so  with  you.  By  believ 
ing  in  the  Holy  Spirit,  you  will  abide  in  me,  in  the 
strictest  unity.  Through  successive  generations  He  will 
build  up  and  complete  my  Church.  Behold,  then,  your 
privilege  and  your  inheritance.  You  were  just  now  sor 
rowing  because  I  said,  I  must  go  away.  But,  except  my 
body  were  to  be  crucified,  you  could  not  enjoy  those 

*  John  xiv.  19.    Tholuck  observes,  that,  "  in  the  pregnant  use  of  language 
as  employed  by  John  and  Christ,  ££>  means  to  lead  a  true  life  in  God." 


DOCTRINE    OF    THE    SPIRIT.  279 

higher  benefits  that  come  from  my  resurrection.  I  can 
not  come  to  you  in  the  Spirit,  till  my  form  is  removed. 
What  you  cannot  now  understand  of  these  mysteries, 
the  Spirit  will  gradually  reveal  to  you.*  He  shall  take 
of  my  truth,  and,  little  by  little,  age  after  age,  show  man 
kind  the  full  meaning  of  my  gospel  and  my  redemption. 
It  is  true,  my  Father  is  the  sender  of  this  Spirit ;  but 
between  my  Father  and  me  is  no  division  of  interest,  or 
counsel,  or  honor.  Whoever  honors  one  of  us,  honors 
both.  I  said  truly,  therefore,  that  the  Spirit,  in  showing 
you  God's  will,  shows  you  mine  ;  for  our  will  is  one, 
and  our  truth  is  one.  Only  believe  what  I  have  said. 
A  little  while,  and  ye  shall  not  see  me  ;  for  I  shall  be 
crucified,  and  ascend  from  the  world.  But  again,  a  little 
while  after,  you  shall  see  me  by  the  eye  of  your  faith, 
and  you  shall  feel  me,  and  know  that  I  am  with  you, 
and  my  Father  also.  We  will  send  to  you  together  the 
Holy  Spirit,  the  Comforter ;  and,  when  I  thus  see  you 
again,  your  heart  shall  rejoice  ;  and  that  joy  no  man 
taketh  from  you." 

Let  us  next  notice  the  harmony  between  this  inter 
pretation  and  other  New  Testament  references  to  the 
same  doctrine.  In  giving  an  account  of  that  lofty  dis 
course,  pronounced  by  Jesus  earlier  in  his  ministry,  when 
he  stood,  on  the  last  and  great  day  of  the  feast,  and  pro 
claimed  to  the  world  his  divine  invitation,  "  If  any  man 
thirst,  let  him  come  unto  me  and  drink,"  —  John  puts  in 
this  parenthesis :  "  This  spake  he  of  the  Spirit,  which 
they  that  believe  on  him  should  receive  ;  for  the  Holy 
Ghost  was  not  yet  given,  [or,  as  the  original  Greek  has 

*  "  He  speaks  in  a  language  best  adapted  to  the  apprehension  which  the 
disciples  then  possessed,  as  well  as  to  the  time,  and  topic  in  hand,  when  he 
speaks  concerning  his  departure  to  the  Eather."  —  Bengel. 


280  DOCTRINE    OP    THE    SPIRIT. 

it,  was  not  yet*]  because  that  Jesus  was  not  yet  glori 
fied,"  that  is,  ascended  into  his  heavenly  glory.  This 
shows  that  John  regarded  the  gift  of  the  Holy  Spirit  as 
conditioned  on  the  death  and  ascension  of  Christ. 

Again,  as  Jesus  had  promised  the  Spirit  to  be  given 
at  the  time  of  his  own  departure,  to  fill  the  place  of  his 
bodily  companionship,  we  should  naturally  expect  some 
signal  demonstration  in  connection  with  that  event.  Is 
this  expectation  fulfilled  ?  "  The  same  day  "  that  he 
rose  from  the  dead,  we  are  told,  "  at  evening,  being  the 
first  day  of  the  week,  Jesus  stood  in  the  midst  of  his  dis 
ciples,  and  said  to  them,  Peace  be  unto  you!  and  when 
he  had  said  this,  he  breathed  on  them,  and  saith  unto 
them,  Receive  ye  the  Holy  Spirit."  Furthermore,  the 
history  is  taken  up,  immediately  after  his  ascension,  by 
Luke,  in  the  "  Acts  of  the  Apostles  " ;  and  the  very  first 
sentence  contains  two  distinct  references  to  this  doctrine 
of  the  Spirit,  recalling  especially  the  Saviour's  promise 
that  his  Apostles  should  "  be  baptized  with  the  Holy 
Ghost,  not  many  days  hence.  Was  that  promise  ac 
complished  ?  Read  the  full  answer  in  the  record,  just 
after,  of  that  matchless  wonder,  the  sublime  outpouring 
and  witnessing  of  the  Spirit,  on  the  day  of  Pentecost, 
when  the  Church  of  Christ  received  its  visible  baptism 
and  consecration,  for  all  time,  in  the  tongues  of  fire  ;  and 
Peter  preached,  while  the  multitude  praised. 

Passing  on  into  the  preaching  of  the  Apostles,  as  they 
went  out  on  their  missionary  work,  we  find  their  mes 
sage  surcharged  with  the  burden  of  this  great  doctrine. 
Everywhere  they  preached  Christ  and  the  resurrection, 
and  coupled  with  these  the  office  of  the  Spirit,  regenerat 
ing  and  sanctifying  the  soul.  Their  Epistles  glow  and 

*  oviTO)  yap  TJV  jrvevpa  aytoj* 


DOCTRINE    OF    THE    SPIRIT.  281 

kindle  with  the  same  animating  assurance.  The  radi 
ance  of  that  conviction  touched  with  glory  their  suffer 
ings  by  persecution,  the  miseries  of  their  prison-houses, 
their  perils  by  the  wilderness,  and  the  martyrdoms  that 
crowned  their  good  confession  of  the  cross.  "  None  of 
these  things  move  me,"  cried  Paul ;  "  for  the  Holy  Ghost 
is  my  witness."  Whatever  fruits  of  conversion  and 
faith  honored  their  apostleship,  they  described  as  not 
their  own,  nor  of  man's  wisdom,  but  the  "  demonstration 
of  the  Spirit,"  and  "  with  power."  Three  verses  in  the 
Epistle  to  Titus  really  condense  the  whole  doctrine  into 
one  comprehensive  formula :  "  After  that  the  kindness 
and  love  of  God  toward  man  appeared,  not  by  works  of 
righteousness  which  we  have  done,  but  according  to  his 
mercy  he  saved  us,  by  the  washing  of  regeneration  and 
renewing  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  which  he  shed  on  us  abun 
dantly  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Saviour." 

It  commends  this  construction  to  our  cordial  reception, 
that  it  meets  all  the  variety  of  our  different  religious 
habits,  suits  itself  to  whatever  sincere  moods  our  shift 
ing  experience  may  bring,  and,  on  whichever  of  the 
Divine  agents  in  sustaining  our  moral  life  we  fix  our 
meditation,  furnishes  us  a  more  satisfying  image  of  each. 

Some  devout  rninds,  for  example,  have  been  trained 
to  fasten  their  religious  reverence  and  affection  almost 
exclusively  on  the  Father.  Not  denying  the  Son,  nor  his 
offices,  nor  rejecting  the  fellowship  of  the  Spirit,  their  pious 
thoughts  turn  most  naturally  to  God  as  Father.  It  is  He 
that  dwells  before  their  contemplation,  absorbs  their  love, 
and  reaches  down  to  help  and  save  them.  For  such,  the 
doctrine,  as  we  have  presented  it,  offers  the  Holy  Spirit  as 
the  gift  and  presence  of  that  God,  his  witness,  his  token, 
one  of  his  personal  manifestations  to  the  soul.  And 

24* 


282  DOCTRINE    OF    THE    SPIRIT. 

although,  as  it  needs  indeed  to  be  more  believed,  we  rob 
ourselves  of  Christian  peace  and  power,  just  in  propor 
tion  as  we  drop  out  of  view  our  intimate  relations  to  the 
person  of  Jesus  ;  yet,  as  we  have  seen,  so  long  as  we  rec 
ognize  him  as  the  Divine  Saviour,  he  will  still  bestow  his 
benediction  on  the  heart  that  truly  worships  his  Father. 
Did  he  not  say  to  the  Father,  "  All  mine  are  thine,  and 
thine  are  mine "  ?  Accordingly,  as  if  expressly  to  en 
lighten  minds  of  the  cast  we  have  alluded  to,  the  Holy 
Spirit  is  represented  to  us  as  the  Spirit  of  God,  —  as  the 
God  that  was  from  everlasting,  and  visited  Moses,  David, 
and  Isaiah.  Such  believers  will  cling  most  fondly  to  that 
phrase  in  the  promise,  "  My  Father  will  love  him  and 
abide  with  him  "  ;  and,  not  forgetting  that  it  is  "  in  the 
name  of  the  Lord  Jesus,"  they  will  linger  with  special 
satisfaction  on  Paul's  language  to  the  Corinthians,  where 
he  says,  "  It  is  by  the  Spirit  of  God  that  we  are  sanc 
tified." 

Another  class  —  and  it  seems  to  us  they  are  apt  to  be 
Christians  of  a  more  fervent  and  effectual  faith  —  find 
their  religious  life,  not  only  originally,  but  constantly, 
dependent  on  the  person  of  Christ.  They  want  to  feel 
the  strengthening  touch  of  his  hand  and  the  breath  of 
his  intercession.  They  are  resolute  according  to  the 
frequency  with  which  they  sit  at  his  feet,  and  vigilant 
according  as  they  are  conscious  that  he  is  near  to  be 
wounded  by  their  backslidings,  or  to  rejoice  personally 
in  their  moral  victories  ;  and  they  are  constant  to  his 
Church  according  as  they  realize  him  to  be  veritably  in 
it  a  leader,  a  friend,  a  reconciler.  This  class,  then,  will 
listen  with  most  grateful  eagerness  wrhen  he  tells  them 
that  he  also,  as  well  as  the  Father,  comes  in  the  Com 
forter.  They  bless  him  -for  the  pledge,  "  Lo,  I  am  with 


DOCTRINE    OF    THE    SPIRIT.  283 

you  alway,  even  unto  the  end  of  the  world."  They 
rejoice  in  the  declaration,  "  Where  two  or  three  are  gath 
ered  together  in  my  name,  there  am  I  in  the  midst  of 
them."  They  reassure  themselves  with  the  conviction, 
that,  though  he  went  away  in  the  humiliation  of  the 
cross,  he  cometh  again  to  judge  the  saints  for  evermore 
in  glory.  And  the  highest  duty  of  their  discipleship  is 
fulfilled  when  they  can  know  that  they  "  abide  in  him." 

Or,  again,  if  there  are  others,  whose  thought  turns  less 
to  the  person  of  either  the  Father  or  the  Son  than  to 
that  Divine  Paraclete  proceeding  from  them  both,  which 
we  have  seen  to  be  called  by  the  New  Testament  the 
Spirit,  as  actually  happens  with  some  branches  of  the 
Church  Universal,  —  then,  provided  only  they  will  re 
ceive  it  in  simplicity,  our  doctrine  makes  ready  room  for 
them  also,  offering  no  violence  to  their  peculiar  culture 
or  affinities.  And  these  will  seize  on  those  many  pas 
sages  that  ascribe  the  work  of  renewal  to  the  Holy  Ghost, 
or  refer  the  joy  and  peace  of  believing  to  His  power. 

By  all  these  ways,  in  accommodation  to  all  these 
shapings  of  devout  belief,  will  the  view  we  have  opened, 
if  it  be  reverentially  studied  and  welcomed  with  a  docile 
heart,  yield  confidence  and  guidance  to  true  Christian 
disciples,  of  whatever  name  or  fold. 

Nor  is  it  an  incidental,  but  an  essential  and  inherent, 
operation  of  our  doctrine,  that  it  exalts  our  conceptions 
of  the  personal  work  of  the  Messiah,  as  the  Head  of  the 
Church  and  the  Divine  Agent  of  man's  regeneration. 
Crucified  at  Calvary,  he  lives  throughout  the  world. 
Slain  as  our  Passover,  he  survives  as  our  Advocate. 
Ascended  from  our  sight,  he  blesses  us  still  by  the  Spirit. 
Before  Abraham,  in  the  bosom  of  the  Father,  he  reigns 
till  he  has  put  all  enemies  under  his  feet.  In  that  he 


284  DOCTRINE    OF    THE    SPIRIT. 

died,  he  died  unto  sin  once  ;  but  in  that  he  liveth,  he 
liveth  unto  God,  and  dieth  no  more. 

It  remains  that  we  turn  our  thoughts  to  those  imme 
diate  offices  of  the  Spirit  towards  our  own  personal 
experience,  which  serve  to  bring  the  doctrine  practically 
home  to  the  religious  affections  and  life. 

Do  we  feel  a  consciousness  of  mortal  weakness,  which 
quite  disables  us  from  originating,  out  of  our  own  virtue, 
the  regeneration  of  the  soul,  and  cleansing  the  heart  from 
all  the  defilements  of  sin  ?  The  Holy  Spirit  comes  to 
meet  that  very  incapacity :  freely,  without  money  or 
price,  the  offered  and  waiting  bounty  of  God's  infinite 
affection  comes,  only  asking  that  we  accept  it.  So  it 
came,  with  a  mighty  wind  and  tongues  of  fire,  at  Pente 
cost  ;  so  it  will  come,  with  reviving  breath  and  burning 
zeal,  to  every  heart  in  us  that  will  believe.  What  said 
Jesus  of  the  new  birth  to  Nicodemus,  but  that  every 
man  so  renewed  is  "  born  of  the  Spirit "  ?  and  Paul,  but 
that  "  the  washing  of  regeneration  "  is  "  the  renewing  of 
the  Holy  Ghost,  which  God  sheds  on  us  abundantly 
through  Jesus  Christ  our  Saviour  "  ? 

Are  we  overtaken  with  a  solitary  sense  sometimes  of 
our  need  of  guidance  through  this  tangled  labyrinth  of 
life  and  its  temptations  ?  The  strong  voice  of  an  Apos 
tle  answers  to  that  need :  "  As  many  as  will  be  led  by 
the  Spirit  of  God,  they  are  the  sons  of  God."  Or  does 
your  mind  stand,  dark  and  perplexed,  when  some  fiend 
ish  enemy  from  within  or  without  —  a  sneer,  a  passion, 
a  provocation  —  bewilders  your  judgment  and  agitates 
your  temper  ?  Behold,  says  your  Lord,  "  the  Holy 
Spirit  shall  teach  you  in  the  same  hour  what  ye  ought 
to  say."  With  him  who  could  fight  with  wild  beasts  at 
Ephesus,  and  sing  anthems  in  prisons,  and  terrify  pom- 


DOCTRINE    OF    THE    SPIRIT.  285 

pous  magistrates  with  his  inbred  dignity,  we  can  "  speak, 
not  in  the  words  which  man's  wisdom  teacheth,  but 
which  the  Holy  Ghost  teacheth."  And  so  we  find  the 
Spirit  not  only  a  guide,  but  an  instructor ;  not  only  lead 
ing  us  to  the  truth,  but  educating  us  to  receive  it. 

When  you  want  encouragement  under  failure,  or 
peace  in  bereavement,  he  is  your  "  Comforter  "  ;  which 
is  the  very  signification  of  "  Paraclete " ;  and  in  the 
same  breath  where  he  promised  that  guide  and  teacher, 
Christ  promised  "  peace  "  also,  —  his  own  peace,  given 
"  not  as  the  world  giveth."  And  if  you  inquire  how 
this  comforting  comes,  Scripture  is  ready  with  a  reply : 
"  Because  the  love  of  God  is  shed  abroad  in  our  hearts 
by  the  Holy  Ghost  which  is  given  unto  us." 

And  then,  when  the  mood  makes  transition  from  peni 
tence,  despondency,  or  grief,  to  courage,  and  your  neces 
sity  is  that  you  be  restrained  rather  than  pardoned,  stim 
ulated,  or  soothed,  you  are  taught  that  the  same  Spirit 
exercises  a  power  of  forbidding,  as  well  as  of  impelling, 
and  are  reminded  that  even  a  purpose  which  seemed  so 
right  as  preaching  the  Gospel  in  Asia  was  forbidden  to  an 
Apostle  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  because  the  Heavenly  Wis 
dom  foresaw  results  hidden  from  the  best  man's  eyes. 

Arid,  finally,  that  highest  and  crowning  grace  of  Chris 
tian  character,  sanctification,  is  declared,  in  the  Epistle 
to  the  Romans,  to  be  the  work  of  the  Spirit,  —  Renewer, 
Guide,  Comforter,  Restrainer,  Sanctifier !  Witness  the 
beneficent  and  celestial  offices  which  we  either  reject 
with  worldly  unbelief,  or  entertain  with  devout  thanks 
giving. 

Nor  can  there  be  any  evasion  under  the  apology  that 
there  is  partiality  in  the  invitation.  For  we  listen  to  the 
earliest  inspiration  of  the  Church,  and  hear  Peter  in  dig- 


286  DOCTRINE    OF    THE    SPIRIT. 

nantly  questioning,  "  Can  any  man  forbid  water  that 
these  should  not  be  baptized,  which  have  received  the 
Holy  Ghost  as  well  as  we  ?  And  they  of  the  circum 
cision  were  astonished,  because  that  on  the  Gentiles  also 
was  poured  out  the  gift  of  the  Holy  Ghost."  I  am  not 
at  liberty  to  judge  of  its  reality  by  any  outward  manifes 
tations  ;  for  I  am  uniformly  taught  to  look  for  that  gift 
as  a  secret  messenger  to  the  soul.  I  turn  with  veneration 
to  the  noblest  and  holiest  saints,  like  Stephen  the  proto- 
martyr,  and  the  first  companions  of  his  unspeakable  trib 
ulation,  and  find  it  repeatedly  said  of  them,  that  the 
richness,  and  grace,  and  stability  of  their  manhood  was, 
that  they  were  "  filled  with  the  Holy  Ghost."  Nay,  I 
must  contemplate  with  a  new  feeling  of  solemnity  and 
Christian  awe  my  own  poor  frame,  when  I  read,  "  Know 
ye  not  that  your  body  is  the  temple  of  the  Holy  Spirit  ? 
Whosoever  defileth  the  temple  of  God,  him  shall  God 
destroy  ;  which  temple  ye  are." 

It  becomes  us  to  remember  the  great  law  of  the  gift ; 
that  condition  with  which  we  must  implicitly  comply,  if 
we  would  have  our  souls  enlightened  and  expanded  by 
the  indwelling  Spirit  of  our  Father  and  our  Redeemer. 
Hearken  to  it,  as  it  is  uttered  from  Divine  lips  :  "  Your 
Heavenly  Father  shall  give  the  Holy  Spirit"  —  to  whom? 
To  them  that  seek  it  not,  and  prize  it  not,  captives  to 
their  traffic,  bondmen  to  their  ambition,  satisfied  with 
what  they  eat  and  drink,  and  with  the  shapes  and  colors 
wherewithal  they  shall  be  clothed  ?  No  ;  but  "  to  them 
that  ask  him." 

May  not  the  Spirit  be  resisted,  and  scorned,  and  in 
sulted,  then,  and  even  fatally  and  finally  forfeited, — 
sorrowfully  withdrawing,  at  last,  —  yet  with  interces 
sions  and  yearnings  of  tender  pity  that  cannot  be  ut- 


DOCTRINE    OF    THE    SPIRIT.  287 

tered  ?  The  answer  is  not  ours.  It  is  the  warning  of 
One  greater  than  you  or  me  :  "  Grieve  not  the  Holy 
Spirit  of  God."  «  Quench  not  the  Spirit."  "  Whoso 
ever  blasphemeth  against  the  Holy  Ghost,  it  shall  not  be 
forgiven  him." 

And  now,  what  are  the  fruits  of  this  Spirit  in  the 
hearts  and  lives  of  men  ?  Will  not  our  own  reason,  our 
conscience,  nay,  our  very  eyesight,  as  we  read  the  char 
acters  of  those  we  know,  make  the  same  answer  with 
revelation  ?  "  The  fruit  of  the  Spirit  is  in  all  goodness, 
and  righteousness,  and  truth,  —  love,  joy,  peace,  —  long- 
suffering,  gentleness,  temperance."  "  If  we  live  in  the 
Spirit,  let  us  also  walk  in  the  Spirit."  Let  the  doctrine 
find  its  unanswerable  testimonies  in  the  greater  purity, 
nobleness,  and  devotedness  of  the  Christian's  life  before 
men. 

We  do  greatly  want  a  fresher  and  deeper  doctrine  of 
the  Holy  Spirit.  We  want  it  individually,  to  give  vital 
ity  to  our  professions,  and  energy  to  our  effort,  and  sanc 
tity  to  our  faith,  and  unconquerable  constancy  to  our 
will.  Christendom  wants  it,  to  heal  the  waste  places 
of  its  foreign  and  its  domestic  heathenism,  to  repair  the 
desolations  of  bigotry  and  formality,  to  advance  the  flag 
ging  march  of  its  principles,  to  animate  the  languid  piety 
of  its  churches,  to  invigorate  pure  and  undefiled  religion, 
to  gather  unrepenting  but  homesick  prodigals  in,  to  en 
large,  and  build  up,  and  strengthen  the  enclosures  of  the 
Saviour's  everlasting  fold. 

Come,  then,  thou  Holy  Spirit,  the  Renewer,  to  re 
plenish  our  wasting  lamps,  and  revive  thy  work,  in  the 
midst  of  the  years !  Come,  Guide  and  Teacher,  to  take 
our  hands  in  thine,  and  pour  light  on  our  way  and  on 
our  mind!  Come,  as  the  Comforter,  to  heal  bleeding 


288  DOCTRINE    OF    THE    SPIRIT. 

hearts,  and  bind  up  the  bruises  of  uncharitableness,  and 
every  sorrow !  Come,  Restrainer,  to  keep  our  feet,  and 
all  our  hidden  desires  and  imaginations,  from  evil! 
Come,  thou  Sanctifier,  to  purify  and  perfect  us,  —  unto 
the  worship  of  the  Father,  and  obedience  to  the  Son,  — 
till  we  are  a  true  and  accepted  branch  of  the  immortal 
Vine,  —  a  people  patient  and  believing,  and  zealous  of 
good  works ! 


SERMON    XX. 


THE   SOUL'S  DEPENDENCE  ON  CHKIST,  AND  VICTORY 
BY  HIM.* 


WITHOUT   ME   YE   CAN   DO  NOTHING.  —  John  XV.  5. 

I  CAN  DO    ALL  THINGS  THROUGH  CHRIST   WHICH   STRENGTHENETH 
ME.  —  Phil.  iv.   13. 

IN  the  two  members  of  this  double  text  are  affir 
mations  of  both  the  weakness  and  the  power  belonging 
to  us.  "  Without  me  ye  can  do  nothing,"  from  the  lips 
of  the  Redeemer,  signifies  our  complete  dependence. 
"  I  can  do  all  things  through  Christ  strengthening  me," 
the  exulting  claim  of  an  Apostle,  exposes  the  breadth  of 
our  .liberty.  And  inasmuch  as  they  who  can  do  all 
things  ought  to  do  greatly,  this  sinless  boast  of  Paul 
challenges  us  with  a  grand  ideal.  It  utters  a  stimulat 
ing  call  to  our  spiritual  energies. 

In  this  twofold  bearing,  the  text  is  only  true  to  the 
profound  facts  of  our  nature  and  our  position.  We  are 
—  experience  and  analysis  equally  confirm  it  —  we  are 
both  weak  and  strong,  both  dependent  and  free.  Our  pro 
bation  is  balanced  between  these  conflicting  conditions. 


*  Preached  before  the  "Autumnal  Convention"  at  "Worcester,  Mass., 
October  20,  1853. 

25 


290 

There  precisely  is  the  problem  we  are  to  work  out,  and 
there  is  the  sharp  strain  of  our  discipline.  God  knew 
that  just  these  conditions  were  the  most  fruitful  for  pro 
ducing,  moral  maturity.  Looking  at  our  duty  from  one 
side,  it  would  seem  as  if  all  we  have  to  do  is  to  put  forth 
our  moral  energies, — to  act.  Looking  at  it  from  another 
side,  it  would  seem  as  if  our  chief  business  is  to  appre 
ciate  what  Christ  does  for  us,  —  to  realize  that  we  belong 
to  him.  To  learn  how  to  adjust  these  elements,  —  how 
to  combine  and  manage  both  our  large  birthright  of  free 
will  and  its  humbling  limitations, —  how  to  use  our 
ability  nobly,  and  at  the  same  time  to  draw  the  grace  of 
submission  out  of  our  insignificance,  not  suffering  the 
one  to  engender  impiety,  nor  the  other  to  dishearten  us 
into  indolence,  —  this  is  perhaps  the  choicest  secret  in 
religious  wisdom.  We  have  to  discover  that  our  frailty 
is  in  fact  a  minister  to  our  progress,  in  first  making  us 
feel  that  we  can  do  nothing  of  ourselves,  and  afterwards 
drawing  us  to  Him  in  whom  the  soul  gains  its  perfec 
tion  ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  that  our  native  capacity  is 
the  spur  that  keeps  our  muscles  from  palsy.  Our  de 
pendence  is  the  needed  check  on  vanity ;  and  our  power 
puts  us  to  work  in  the  Master's  vineyard,  after  we  have 
entered  it  under  that  lowly  door  of  self-renunciation. 

Let  me  say,  that,  in  my  present  treatment,  I  recognize 
no  distinction  between  the  Messiah  speaking  and  the 
God  who  speaks  by  his  lips.  .  "  The  Father  who  dwell- 
eth  in  me,"  he  says,  "  he  doeth  the  works."  "  As  the 
Father  hath  given  me  commandment,  even  so  I  speak." 
Raising  no  question,  therefore,  of  the  interior  relations 
of  their  nature,  nor  touching  the  dogmatic  aspect  of  the 
case  in  any  way,  I  find  that,  for  all  the  practical  inter 
ests  of  the  subject,  what  is  declared  by  Christ  of  himself 


THE    SOUL'S    DEPENDENCE    ON    CHRIST.  291 

is  declared  of  God.  Understand  me,  then,  as  taking  for 
granted  this  oneness  between  them,  by  which  each 
speaks  for  the  other,  and  as  waiving  from  the  discussion 
any  possible  notion  of  a  conflict  of  their  dignities. 

My  method  will  be,  first,  to  offer  you  some  illustra 
tions  of  the  beautiful  law,  inwoven  into  our  spiritual  con 
stitution,  that  it  is  looking  upward  to  a  Power  above  us 
which  works  the  largest  effects  in  both  animating  and 
purifying  the  soul,  rather  than  any  introspection,  peeping 
about  for  ever  among  our  own  petty  attainments  or  de 
fects  ;  then,  to  observe  how  this  essential  want  is  met  in 
Christ  Jesus,  and  how  he  becomes  the  elevating  Presence 
and  informing  Power  which  lends  to  every  true  life  its 
order,  its  constancy,  its  peace. 

Undoubtedly,  the  chief  and  most  urgent  sense  of  our 
need  of  Divine  help  comes  by  the  conviction  of  our  sins. 
Dependent  for  all  inspiration  and  furtherance  on  the 
Father's  Well-Beloved,  we  depend  on  him  most  of  all 
for  the  reconciliation  that  brings  forgiveness,  and  so 
we  feel  this  dependence  most  completely,  when  smitten 
by  the  consciousness  of  our  alienation.  The  perfect 
but  violated  law,  with  no  lax  nor  exceptional  clause  ; 
the  bright  immaculate  standard ;  the  unqualified  "  Thou 
shalt"  from  the  mouth  of  the  Judge,  insulted  by  our 
constant  transgression ;  the  faithful  and  rebuking  mem 
ory  that  will  not  sleep,  but  fixes  on  us  the  guilt  and  the 
dread  of  offenders  ;  —  these  are  what  wring  from  the  de 
pendent  breast  the  heartiest  cry,  "  Lord,  save  us,  or  we 
perish ! " 

Apart  from  this,  however,  and  in  a  more  general  view, 
it  is  by  one  of  the  most  signal  spiritual  laws  that  human 
hearts  are  made  to  receive  their  chief  impulses  from 
a  being  exalted  over  them  ;  as  child  from  parent,  — 


292 

scholar  from  teacher,  —  the  soldier  from  his  leader,  —  the 
citizen  from  the  majesty  of  government  embodied  in 
the  ruler.  So  in  the  Church,  which  is  the  nursery,  the 
school,  the  camp,  the  kingdom,  of  religious  training  and 
growth.  There  is  no  principle  so  wondrously  efficient 
for  the  production  of  holiness  as  faith  in  that  eternal 
play  of  the  Spirit  into  our  common  life,  promised  by 
Jesus,  as  the  perpetuation  of  his  own  mediatorial  office, 
under  the  names  of  Comforter,  Paraclete,  Holy  Spirit, 
Spirit  of  Truth.  When  our  lives  lose  this  transfiguring 
faith,  the  celestial  splendor  has  faded  from  them.  It  is 
this  that  establishes  that  affecting  commerce  between 
humanity  and  the  heavens,  which  brings  down  the  help 
of  the  Almighty  to  renew,  from  hour  to  hour,  our  wast 
ing  devotions.  This  is  that  doctrine  of  the  Spirit,  — 
wakening,  encouraging,  sanctifying,  —  which  the  mod 
ern  Church  seems  often  so  stupidly  bent  on  denying,  as 
if  it  would  bereave  the  earth  of  its  only  celestial  light. 
And  it  is  indispensable  to  the  doctrine,  as  a  faithful 
study  of  John's  Gospel  will  interpret  it  to  us,  that  we 
understand  by  the  Spirit  something  more,  something 
nearer,  something  warmer  and  more  efficacious,  than  the 
inarticulate  influences  of  nature ;  namely,  that  peculiar 
and  personal  energy  which  Christ  referred  to  as  in  fact 
the  continuation  of  his  own  life  in  his  Church,  and 
declared  to  be  inaugurated  on  his  going  away,  and 
which  is  clearly  separated  from  the  domain  of  natural 
law.  The  Saviour  uttered  no  syllables  more  full  of  ten 
derness,  than  when  he  besought  his  followers  to  feel  that 
without  him  they  could  do  nothing.  He  furnished  man 
no  uplifting  nor  propelling  impulse  so  august  or  so  be 
nignant  as  when  he  cried,  "  No  man  cometh  unto  the 
Father  but  by  me."  Study  deeply  enough,  and  we  shall 


THE    SOUL'S    DEPENDENCE    ON    CHRIST.  293 

see  that  God  nowhere  gives  such  final  honor,  or  such 
immortal  blessing,  to  the  names  of  his  separate  sons  and 
daughters,  as  when  he  exalts  his  Only-begotten  over 
them  all,  and  gives  him  a  name  that  is  above  every 
name,  that  so  their  faith  might  look  up  to  him,  and 
climb  after  him. 

I  think  you  will  agree  with  me,  that  there  is  some 
secret  provision  in  our  nature  which  makes  this  act  of 
looking  upward  the  grandest  exercise  of  our  faculties.  It 
is  shadowed  forth  by  the  fact,  that,  in  the  common  con 
sent  of  all  languages,  what  is  noblest  and  best  is  placed 
over  us.  Heaven  is  arched  above  our  heads.  Excellence 
is  a  height.  When  we  improve,  we  ascend.  Greatness 
is  figured  as  an  elevation.  Virtues  in  character  are  meas 
ured  according  to  their  loftiness.  The  divinest  motions 
of  the  human  spirit  are  aspiration  and  veneration, — 
both  looking  upward.  Prayer,  we  say,  goes  up.  The 
more  a  man  sees  above  him  to  reverence,  the  humbler 
he  is  ;  and  u  he  that  humbleth  himself  is  in  due  time  ex 
alted."  The  finest  symbols  of  all  generous  attainment 
are  mountains  and  the  sky.  And  just  as  to  a  true  and 
thoughtful  mind  the  largest  satisfaction  found  in  the 
society  of  great  hills  is  in  looking  up  toward  them  from 
beneath,  and  letting  the  kindled  and  devout  imagination 
travel  up  their  glorious  peaks  into  the  infinitude  and 
mystery  whither  the  summits  point,  rather  than  in  put 
ting  the  foot  on  their  crown  and  sending  the  eye  arro 
gantly  down  into  the  conquered  plains,  —  so  always,  if 
our  spiritual  state  is  right,  what  is  grandest  on  earth 
most  impels  us  to  look  beyond  it. 

This  conviction  of  a  constant  dependence  on  what 
God  does  for  us,  by  his  Spirit  and  his  Son,  as  the  great 
spring  and  motive  of  what  we  are  to  do  for  ourselves, 

25*= 


294  THE  SOUL'S  DEPENDENCE  ON  CHRIST. 

stands  in  intimate  connection  with  other  dispositions, 
besides  humility,  equally  necessary  to  the  higher  types 
of  character,  —  such  as  self-denial,  gratitude,  penitence, 
love,  —  all  heroic  traits.  Is  not  self-denial  a  part  of  mag 
nanimity  ?  But  strike  away  its  divine  impersonation 
in  Him  who  died  that  we  might  live,  and,  if  we  could  no 
longer  gaze  up  to  that  standard  of  sacrifice,  how  soon 
would  the  glory  of  such  virtue  grow  dim  !  Penitence  is 
the  sorrow  that  haunts  a  guilty  breast  for  having  rejected 
that  condescension,  and  so  it  is  the  child  of  Christianity. 
Gratitude  is  the  answer  of  nature  to  the  Being  who  so 
lent  himself  to  the  world's  malice,  and  to  the  forgiveness 
that  blesses  penitence  with  pardon.  And  if  you  speak 
of  love,  —  was  there  ever  a  feeling  worthy  to  be  called 
by  that  holy  name  that  did  not  see  in  the  person  beloved 
something  superior  to  self?  By  all  these  bonds  of  better 
feeling  does  Christ  fasten  us  to  the  way  of  life,  when  he 
makes  us  realize  that  without  him  we  can  do  nothing. 
The  idea  that  man  is  the  originator  and  autocrat  of 
his  religious  life,  by  severing  us  from  our  Head,  robs 
us  of  these  radiant  graces.  Submission  to  self  is  no 
submission.  A  hard,  bold,  conceited,  and  finally  a  dis 
appointed  and  recanting  temper,  is  engendered,  and  be 
cause  the  soul  would  not  lean  on  its  Lord,  piety  perishes. 
It  may  be  pretended,  I  know,  that  this  doctrine  of  de 
pendence  on  what  is  done  for  them  may  indispose  men 
to  act  for  themselves,  and,  by  locating  the  main  work 
above  them,  turn  redemption  into  a  temptation  to  idle 
ness,  leaving  Christian  believers  only  passive  recipients 
of  salvation,  instead  of  energetic  doers,  working  it  out. 
But  whatever  color  of  plausibility  such  an  objection  may 
have  taken  from  extravagant  or  one-sided  representations, 
the  view,  as  it  opens  from  the  New  Testament,  offers  no 


295 

practical  room  for  the  charge,  and  the  best  philosophy 
takes  sides  with  Revelation.  Let  any  heart  really  feel 
that  a  great  sacrifice  of  love  has  been  undergone  for  it, 
and  must  it  not,  by  a  mighty  necessity,  give  back  the 
service  of  love  in  return  ?  To  maintain  the  opposite  is 
the  worst  libel  human  nature  has  ever  suffered  yet.  On 
the  contrary,  it  presents  human  nature  on  its  more  attrac 
tive  side,  I  think,  that  it  is  found  to  be  striving  for  gener 
ous  achievements  quite  as  effectually  out  of  the  grateful 
sense  of  what  has  been  done  for  it,  as  out  of  the  more 
ambitious  and  Pharisaic  hope  to  do  everything  for  itself. 
There  is  no  nobler  order  of  souls  than  those  that  know 
how  to  owe  their  best  wealth  to  a  Hand  above  them, 
without  servility  or  sloth.  The  secret  of  beautiful  man 
ners,  in  society,  is  social  reverence,  or  that  tacit  subordina 
tion  of  selfish  convenience  to  the  whole,  which  is  like  a 
perpetual  offer  of  free  and  dignified  service  to  others.  The 
most  refined  of  all  courtesy  is  that  by  which  a  man  makes 
the  most  of  himself,  only  for  the  sake  of  making,  in  him 
self,  the  worthiest  offering  to  his  kind.  Hence  the  ancient 
loyalty  was  often  self-ennobling  simply  because  it  was 
unselfish.  Christianity,  transferring  the  homage  from 
all  accidental  principalities  to  a  Prince  of  perfection  and 
peace,  sustains  the  principle  with  a  better  application. 
It  is  clearly  declared,  in  the  spiritual  code  of  the  Gospel, 
"  Whosoever  is  willing  to  give  his  life  away  for  his  Mas 
ter,  shall  save  it." 

It  is  not  a  mere  conceit  of  speculation,  I  think,  to  seek, 
in  this " way,  a  confirmation  for  the  Christian  doctrine 
of  dependence,  in  the  natural  facts  and  constitution  of 
the  mind, — in  the  rule  of  manners  and  in  every-day 
emotions.  For,  however  complete  our  deference  to  the 
authority  of  Revelation,  there  are  capricious  moods  in 


296  THE  SOUL'S  DEPENDENCE  ON  CHRIST. 

the  most  believing  minds,  when  intellectual  curiosity  will 
be  prying  into  the  realm  of  ordinary  reason  for  some 
echoes  to  the  vast  witness  in  the  Bible.  In  such  furtive 
licenses  of  doubt,  it  is  no  light  comfort  to  faith  to  find 
that  even  all  along  the  highways  of  nature,  in  the  public 
paths  of  custom  and  of  reflection,  there  are  scattered  con 
senting  monuments  to  the  insufficiency  of  our  mortal 
ability,  to  the  power  of  the  Divine  redemption. 

Accordingly,  it  is  interesting  to  see  that  the  history  of 
the  higher  speculations  in  philosophy  scarcely  shows  a 
period  when  the  idea  of  man's  belonging  to  a  Superior 
was  not  embraced  by  some  of  the  leaders  of  thought. 
Ever  since  the  morning  of  science,  the  foremost  danger  of 
intellectual  activity  has  been  audacity,  or  that  self-confi 
dent  unbelief  which  thinks  to  dispense  with  God;  this 
danger  the  instincts  of  the  deeper-sighted  thinkers  have 
not  failed  to  apprehend.  Standing  in  the  Grecian  twi 
light,  hear  Plutarch,  as  he  looked  still  farther  back  into 
what  was  antiquity  to  him,  bewailing  the  departure  of 
an  earlier  faith.  "  The  ancients,"  he  says,  "  directed  their 
attention  simply  to  the  divine  in  phenomena,  as  God  is 
the  centre  and  beginning  of  all,  and  from  him  all  things 
proceed.  But  the  moderns  turned  themselves  wholly 
away  from  that  ground  of  things,  and  supposed  every 
thing  could  be  explained  from  natural  causes,"  —  the 
identical  presumption  of  our  nineteenth  century  scepti 
cism.  The  great  modern  master  of  that  philosophy 
which  affects  to  be  most  independent  of  Revelation  in 
troduces  into  his  system  a  principle  which,  if  you  only 
allow  it  to  play  into  personal  as  well  as  abstract  relations, 
does  really  suspend  everything  on  God's  will ;  namely, 
that  in  all  human  minds  the  sense  of  an  Infinite  is  the 
necessary  condition  and  counterpart  of  a  finite  conscious- 


297 

ness.  And  while  European  culture  in  its  last  and  most 
subtile  elaboration  thus  leaves  in  its  splendid  edifice  a  vir 
tual  confession  of  the  fundamental  axiom  of  religion,  we 
find  the  solitary  thinker  of  the  Western  Continent,  Jona 
than  Edwards,  in  his  Berkshire  study,  by  reasonings  not 
less  original  and  independent,  nor  less  influential  on  the 
world's  ideas,  maintaining  the  much  plainer  and  more 
evangelical  proposition,  that  the  whole  universe,  in  every 
part  of  it,  is  supported  by  a  continual  succession  of  acts  of 
the  Divine  Will,  not  different  from  that  which  at  first  cre 
ated  the  world,  "  just  as  an  image  is  upheld  in  a  mirror 
by  a  continual  flow  of  rays  of  light,  each  succeeding  pen 
cil  of  which  does  not  differ  from  that  by  which  the  image 
was  at  first  produced."  So  do  the  extremes  of  human 
theories,  in  the  diverse  voices  of  genius,  through  all  the 
periods  of  which  letters  inform  us,  unite  in  rendering  their 
testimonials  —  from  the  most  vague  and  reluctant,  to  the 
most  articulate,  cordial,  and  clear  —  to  the  simple  truth 
which  Paul  put  better  than  any  of  them,  —  that  in  God 
we  live  and  move  and  have  our  being.  And  without 
him  as  he  is  manifest  in  his  Christ,  spiritually  we  can  do 
nothing. 

You  will  hardly  need  an  argument,  I  think,  my  friends, 
to 'satisfy  you  that  the  active  forces  of  our  time  are  work 
ing  in  a  direction  that  is  very  liable  to  drift  men's  thoughts 
and  affections  away  from  this  humble  upward-looking 
faith  and  religious  submission.  The  very  enterprise  that 
builds  the  gorgeous  structure  of  our  civilization,  threat 
ens  to  undermine  the  vastly  more  needful  shelter  of  the 
Church ;  because,  by  so  many  triumphs  over  the  resist 
ance  of  matter,  the  brain  grows  self-assured,  and  comes 
to  deem  itself  almighty  and  all-sufficient.  As  we  go  on 
making  the  earth  more  convenient,  there  is  less  feeling  of 


298 

the  need  of  that  other  heritage,  lying  all  glorious  and 
serene  beyond  it.  Ships,  factories,  railways,  mills,  aque 
ducts,  instead  of  being  made  the  consecrated  instruments 
of  a  holier  society,  may  be  only  the  boasted  badges  of  a 
richer  one,  and  beget  a  shallow  and  ungodly  impudence. 
In  the  piety  now  fashionable,  we  miss,  how  often!  the 
simple,  childlike  character  that  waits  every  hour  for  the 
beckoning  hand  of  God.  At  church  even,  the  preaching 
encroaches  upon  the  prayers,  and  wins  the  livelier  in 
terest.  At  our  business,  the  swift  eagerness  of  motion 
puts  life  at  awful  hazards ;  the  great  channels  of  public 
travel  planting  and  peopling  graveyards  at  every  bend  of 
the  road.  All  is  persistent  will,  valiant  energy,  pushing 
and  victorious  worldliness.  How  little  of  meek,  persist 
ent  communion  with  the  everlasting  Lord !  How  little 
dependence  on  the  Spirit!  How  little  of  that  deeper 
meditation  which  sees  that,  without  religion,  all  this  fret 
ting  action  will  be  but  a  noisy  ruin  after  ah1,  and  that 
without  Christ  it  can  do  nothing !  We  are  impatient 
for  results.  We  measure  the  spiritual  life  by  the  wealth 
or  size  of  parishes  and  the  ostentation  of  philanthropy. 
We  are  willing  to  pay  liberal  prices  for  that  piety  which 
yields  a  handsome  return  of  self-complacency.  No  sooner 
does  some  sect  get  a  little  faith,  than,  instead  of  modestly 
crying,  "Lord,  I  believe:  help  thou  mine  unbelief!"  it 
goes  about  to  challenge  admiration,  and  expects  ap 
plause,  and  sets  up  a  competition  with  its  neighbors,  — 
too  sure  evidence  that  what  it  got  was  not  faith.  The 
old  Puritan  habit  of  connecting  every  change  in  place  or 
venture  in  business  with  God's  providence,  and  hallowing 
it  by  a  prayer,  is  praised  perhaps  in  the  eloquence  of 
Pilgrim  anniversaries ;  but  is  it  practised  in  State  Street 
and  the  State- House  ?  Commerce  crowds  upon  the 


THE    SOUL'S    DEPENDENCE    ON    CHRIST.  299 

closet.  The  school-house  gets  jealous  and  impatient  of 
the  Bible.  Universities  talk  of  closing  their  chapels.  An 
upstart  learning,  idolizing  knowledge,  but  only  half  wise, 
screams  its  smart  sneers  at  the  Revelation  which  will  be 
true  after  it  is  dead,  as  it  was  before  it  was  born.  The 
sin  of  the  brain  has  always  been  audacity.  And  the 
hardest  and  least  relenting  of  all  unbeliefs  is  that  of  a  bit 
ter  intellectual  pride.  In  the  Hebrew  allegory,  the  fallen 
angels  of  Love  regained  the  celestial  light,  because  they 
confessed  their  weakness,  and  crept  back,  through  the 
dark,  dependency  begging  to  find  again  what  they  had 
lost.  But  the  fallen  angels  of  Knowledge,  confident  in 
their  vain  boast  of  self-emanating  lustre,  plunged  obsti 
nately  on,  till  they  sunk,  obscure  and  lost  for  ever,  into 
the  pit.  "  Without  me,"  —  it  needs  to  be  written  out 
over  all  your  warehouses,  and  wharves,  and  banks,  and 
bams,  and  starting-points  of  travel,  and  ships'  decks,  and 
places  of  amusement, — it  needs  to  be  brought  into  the 
souls,  and  so  into  the  labor  and  life,  of  the  people, — 
"  Without  me  ye  can  do  nothing, — without  the  princi 
ples  of  my  religion,  —  without  the  purity  and  justice  and 
charity  of  the  beatitudes,  —  without  faith  in  my  person, 
-  without  the  spirit  of  my  life,  and  the  sacrifice  of  my 
cross!" 

Believe  it,  brethren,  man  needs  a  more  generous  mo 
tive  than  his  own  promotion.  To  be  satisfying,  or  serene, 
or  strong,  his  life  must  link  itself  through  a  mediator  to 
God,  and  breathe  by  his  inspiration.  When  I  can  begin 
every  day,  or  undertaking,  with  the  feeling,  "  I  do  it  not 
of  myself,  so  much  as  the  Spirit  through  me,"  then  I  labor 
with  more  than  my  poor  mortal  ingenuity ;  the  cunning 
of  my  fingers  is  the  simple  desire  to  be  about  my  Father's 
business ;  and  I  can  do  all  things  through  Christ  strength- 


300        THE  SOUL'S  DEPENDENCE  ON  CHRIST. 

ening  me.  Consciously,  distinctly,  resolutely,  habitually, 
we  need  to  give  ourselves,  our  business,  our  interests,  our 
families,  our  affections,  into  the  Spirit's  hands,  to  lead  and 
fashion  us  as  he  will.  When  we  work  with  the  current 
of  that  Divine  Will,  all  is  vital,  efficient,  fruitful;  for,  lean 
ing  back  against  the  Omnipotent  arm,  this  human  frame 
attracts  strength  into  all  its  sinews.  But  when  we  strive 
against  that  current,  some  secret  flaw  vitiates  even  what 
we  call  our  successes  ;  and  how  do  we  know  but  our 
proudest  successes  then  are  only  failures  in  disguise  ? 
You  have  seen  the  rower's  strength  put  vigorously  against 
the  tide ;  and,  judging  from  his  own  narrow  point  on  the 
water,  the  dash  of  his  oars  seemed  to  be  dividing  the  waves, 
and  sending  him  up  the  channel.  But  when  the  mist 
lifts,  let  him  send  his  glance  away  to  some  stable  land 
mark  on  the  shore,  and  he  finds  the  triumphant  stream  has 
all  the  time  been  drifting  him  backward  and  downward. 
So  with  the  moral  issue  of  our  plans.  By  our  conceited 
standards,  we  seem  to  compass  our  ends;  but  transfer 
the  scale  of  measurement  to  eternity,  and  behold!  we 
have  been  losers  of  the  soul  while  we  gained  the  world, 
because  the  Spirit  was  not  invited  to  befriend  our  toil ! 
After  the  bolts  are  all  driven,  and  the  shrouds  are  set,  we 
must  still  wait  for  the  breath  of  heaven  to  fill  the  sail. 
Nothing,  literally  nothing,  in  the  final  reckoning,  without 
our  Lord! 

An  illustration,  how  we  never  comprehend  the  facts 
of  experience  in  their  Christian  meaning,  nor  look  on 
our  duties  rightly,  till  we  project  the  centre  of  our  inter 
est  and  love  out  of  ourselves,  and  fix  it  in  God,  may  be 
found  in  the  progress  of  astronomy.  The  little  planet  we 
stand  on  was  once  reckoned  the  centre  of  the  material 
universe.  But  when  Copernicus  supplanted  Ptolemy, 


THE  SOUL'S  DEPENDENCE  ON  CHRIST.       301 

the  earth,  retiring  into  the  humility  of  a  satellite,  waited 
on  the  silent  lordship  of  the  sun.  So  in  the  false  com 
putations  of  a  short-sighted  worldliness,  self  is  central; 
self-will  is  sovereign ;  man  is  deified.  But  when  Chris 
tianity  brings  in  her  grander  "  calculus  of  faith,"  the  su 
premacy  is  removed  from  man  to  God ;  the  moral  uni 
verse  is  no  longer  anarchical,  but  heliocentric  again ;  the 
earth  depends  from  the  heaven  over  it.  The  true  order 
of  piety,  worship,  life,  is  restored,  because  all  the  events 
of  life  gravitate  about  the  Eternal  Providence ;  the  heart 
obeys  a  heavenly  control ;  the  affections  are  swayed  by 
the  attractions  of  the  Spirit.  Without  our  Lord  we  can 
do  nothing. 

Turn,  now,  to  the  wonderful  way  whereby  all  these 
necessities  and  cravings  of  the  soul  for  help  from  beyond 
and  above  itself  are  met  in  Jesus  of  Nazareth.  Ponder 
it,  and  you  will  exclaim,  with  Paul,  "  I  can  do  all  things 
through  Christ  strengthening  me."  By  his  wide  and 
mighty  heart,  he  strengthens  you,  embracing  all  the  pos 
sibilities  of  experience,  and  covering  all  the  moral  emer 
gencies  of  life ;  reaching  up  to  heaven,  in  the  exaltation 
of  his  nature,  and  having  his  home  in  the  bosom  of  God, 
but  stooping  down  to  the  earth  also  in  his  mercy,  writing 
on  its  sand,  kneeling  on  its  sod,  breathing  its  air,  touch 
ing  its  saddest  trials  with  his  miracles.  Tender  enough 
to  soothe  the  sorrow  of  the  gentlest  child  by  his  pity,  he 
is  regal  enough  in  his  power  to  command  into  his  service 
twelve  legions  of  angels.  Praying  to  his  Father,  he  lends 
the  ardor  and  steadfastness  of  his  fidelity  to  our  dull,  ir 
regular  affections.  Lifting  special  petitions  when  he  had 
special  wonders  to  work,  or  special  agonies  to  bear,  he 
brightens  every  midnight  of  our  perplexity  by  his  mid 
night  supplications  in  the  mountain,  aids  our  hesitations 

26 


302        THE  SOUL'S  DEPENDENCE  ON  CHRIST. 

by  his  cry  at  the  grave  of  Lazarus,  supports  our  faith  by 
his  thrice-repeated  entreaties  in  the  garden.  When  re 
viled,  reviling  not  again,  and  forgiving  his  murderers,  he 
furnishes  a  heavenly  peace  to  every  one  in  your  houses 
that  is  wronged  or  betrayed,  —  the  child  that  is  feeling 
the  first  pang  of  faithless  friendship,  the  merchant  de 
frauded  by  his  partner,  the  woman  defamed  by  her  rival. 
Thus,  tempted  himself  like  as  we  are,  he  is  able  to  suc 
cor  them  that  are  tempted. 

By  every  incident  in  his  earthly  history,  every  office  in 
his  ministry  of  humiliation,  he  strengthens  us.  So  mar 
vellously  did  virtue  go  out  of  him,  the  spots  where  his 
feet  lingered  but  a  moment  became  shrines  of  homage, 
where  all  centuries  and  nations  kneel,  —  Galilee,  Naz 
areth,  Bethlehem,  the  Well  of  Samaria,  the  Mount  of 
Olives :  what  strengthening  names !  The  bed  of  every 
new-born  babe  in  Christendom  is  safer,  because  his  was 
made  in  a  manger.  All  the  shores  of  countries  on  to 
which  Christian  discovery  has  leaped,  are  more  sacred  for 
his  walking  the  beach  of  Tiberias.  His  reading  in  the 
synagogue  at  Capernaum  has  added  a  holier  dedication 
to  every  sanctuary  and  pulpit.  When  he  paid  the  tithe 
of  his  people,  he  sanctioned  every  righteous  claim  of  the 
civil  government  on  the  citizen.  And  when  he  sat 
down  with  the  affectionate  circle  at  the  home  in  Beth 
any,  the  kind  securities  of  family  and  kindred  received  a 
more  than  mortal  benediction.  So  was  every  step  in  his 
Judaean  journey  radiant  with  the  eternal  Light,  lightening 
thenceforth  every  man  born  into  a  Christian  world,  and 
strengthening  him. 

By  the  benevolence  and  the  power  of  his  miracles,  he 
strengthens  us.  Not  only  by  breaking  the  monotony  of 
nature,  and  attesting  with  supernatural  proofs  that  the 


303 

Almighty  must  be  with  him,  but  also  by  the  lasting  les 
sons  of  compassion  and  consolation  which  those  miracles 
have  left  for  us.  We  see  the  Saviour  standing  once  with 
his  gracious  hand  on  the  dead  girl's  heart;  and  lo!  that 
image  multiplies  itself  in  a  thousand  weeping  homes, 
through  all  the  dying  race.  Once  he  spoke  the  word  of 
resurrection  to  Lazarus;  and  the  voice  echoes  and  re 
echoes  in  endless  reverberations  from  all  the  walls  of 
Christian  sepulchres  and  graves  that  will  ever  be  hollowed 
out  on  the  globe.  He  healed  a  few  sick;  and  all  sickness 
and  pain  are  more  endurable.  He  hushed  the  storms  at 
sea ;  and  every  sailor  knows  more  surely  that  the  waves 
are  curbed  by  a  heavenly  control.  He  opened  the  ears 
of  the  deaf ;  and  ah1  his  disciples  listen  more  gratefully  to 
his  instruction. 

For,  again,  by  his  true  teachings  he  strengthens  us. 
The  Sermon  on  the  Mount  kindles  virtue  to-day,  as  glo 
riously  as  when  its  unequalled  sentences  fell  on  the  mul 
titude  at  his  feet.  When  crime  seems  to  be  grinning  in 
horrid  triumphs  over  innocence,  when  vice  grows  riotous, 
or  mammon  cruel,  in  our  New  England  cities,  we  turn 
back  to  the  beatitudes,  to  the  parables,  to  the  conversa 
tion  with  Nicodemus,  declaring  that,  except  a  man  be 
born  again,  he  cannot  see  God's  kingdom;  to  the  rebuke 
of  those  ambitious  politicians,  the  sons  of  Zebed.ee,  seek 
ing  high  offices  in  the  new  administration ;  to  the  stern 
rebuke  that  bade  the  prosperous  young  worldling  go  sell 
all  he  had  and  give  to  the  poor,  and  so  crush  by  violence 
the  idolatry  in  the  heart ;  and  in  these  rare  discourses, 
reaching  down,  plain,  piercing,  and  practical,  to  us,  as  to 
the  publicans  and  statesmen  and  mechanics  of  eighteen 
hundred  years  ago,  we  feel  that  every  word  from  the  Sav 
iour's  lips  is  bread  of  life,  coming  down  from  heaven, 
strengthening  us. 


304       THE  SCULPS  DEPENDENCE  ON  CHRIST. 

By  his  cross  and  death,  above  all,  he  strengthens  us, 
—  strengthens  us  to  fight  afresh  with  the  sin  that  he  there 
vanquished,  to  buffet  the  temptations  that  he  there  con 
quered,  to  hope  for  the  forgiveness  which  he  there  pledged 
and  sealed.  No  soul  among  you  that  has  ever  known 
what  remorse  is,  — a  convicted  conscience,  —  a  yearning 
for  reconciliation  with  a  broken  commandment  and  a 
forsaken  Father,  —  needs  to  be  told  how  the  cross  strength 
ens.  There  are  passages  in  human  experience  when  all 
else  is  weakness,  and  confidence  rises  over  no  other  spot 
in  the  dark  field  of  sight  but  Calvary. 

By  his  surviving  spirit,  too, — by  what  he  still  is  to  the 
world,  —  he  strengthens  us.  Dispensing  secret  gifts  to  his 
true  followers,  as  the  living  and  present  Head  over  all 
things  to  his  Church,  he  remains  the  divine  friend  that 
opens  his  heart  to  the  simple  communion  of  the  humblest 
believer.  Ages  do  not  outgrow  him.  Libraries  cannot 
supplant  him.  All  our  science  casts  no  ray  that  dims  his 
transcendent  glory;  for  the  solar  beam  never  pales  before 
a  torch.  He  is  with  us,  if  we  seek  him,  as  much  as  with 
Peter,  and  John,  and  Mary,  and  Thomas.  "  Lo,  I  am 
with  you  alway,  even  unto  the  end  of  the  world." 

And  just  here  we  discover  light  on  the  ecclesiastical 
difficulty  that  has  so  long  vexed  theology,  namely,  how 
to  attain  unity  in  the  Church.  You  are  met  here  to 
night,  a  company  of  Christian  students,  with  breasts  full 
of  aspiration  for  that  grand  consummation  of  history,  — 
one  fold  and  one  Shepherd.  How  else  shall  the  body 
be  one,  my  brethren,  except  by  abiding  in  its  Head,  its 
heart,  its  life,  and  beholding  his  presence  ?  How  else 
shall  disciples  see  eye  to  eye,  but  by  all  ranging  them 
selves  in  the  divine  circle  of  affectionate  reverence  about 
the  central  Master,  sitting  at  his  feet,  and  looking  into 


305 

his  countenance,  and  doing  his  works  ?  Christ  did  more 
than  stand  apart,  and  lay  the  corner-stone  of  the  Church 
with  his  hand,  and  then  retire  into  distant  heavens.  He 
pours  his  own  heart's  life,  which  is  the  Spirit,  into  it 
daily.  Realize  this,  and  you  will  no  longer  have  to  com 
plain  of  churches  that  are  not  vital,  or  churches  that 
hate  and  devour  each  other.  Communion  will  be  a  fact. 
Society  will  be  beautiful.  Justice  and  love  will  crown 
commerce  and  government. 

By  his  intercessions  as  advocate  before  the  throne, 
seconding  our  prayers,  and  prevailing  with  the  Father, 
he  strengthens  our  devotion  as  greatly  as  his  doctrine 
strengthens  our  work.  Still,  as  we  hearken,  in  the  midst 
of  our  secret  supplication  we  hear  him  saying,  "  With 
out  me  ye  can  do  nothing,"  and,  "  Whatsoever  ye  shall 
ask  the  Father  in  my  name,  I  will  give  it  you." 

And  finally,  by  his  resurrection,  bringing  immortality 
to  light,  he  strengthens  us,  —  strengthens  us  just  where 
faith  was  feeblest  and  most  likely  to  fail,  —  among  the 
fears  and  sorrows  of  death.  As  fast  as  experience  deep 
ens  with  you,  friends,  it  will  sway  the  soul,  if  you  do  not 
unbelievingly  resist  it,  more  and  more  to  the  only  Inter 
preter  of  its  mystery,  the  only  Deliverer  from  its  bondage. 
Processions  that  halt  each  moment  at  opening  ceme 
teries  ;  tears  that  are  falling,  falling  for  ever,  and  baptiz 
ing  burial  acres ;  the  wails  of  grief  that  moan  through 
desolated  households, — they  all  articulate,  in  some  under 
tone,  the  old  cry  of  Peter,  so  tender,  so  grateful :  "  Lord, 
to  whom  shall  we  go  ?  Thou  alone  hast  the  words  that 
comfort  mourners,  open  tombs,  and  give  us  back  our 
dead,  —  even  words  of  everlasting  life."  And  then,  is 
there  any  heart  beating  here  this  evening  which  has  not 
its  own  secret  accusation,  or  strife,  or  fear, —  its  hidden 

26* 


306        THE  SOUL'S  DEPENDENCE  ON  CHRIST. 

cross  of  fire  clinging  to  the  inmost  sensitive  cords  of  life,  — 
not  to  be  outrun  by  travel,  not  to  be  dispelled  by  gayety, 
not  to  be  drugged  by  anodynes,  nor  outwitted  by  philos 
ophy,  nor  rejected  by  any  restless  artifice  of  fashion, — 
shown  to  no  mortal  eyes,  but  only  whispered  in  the  peti 
tions  that  besiege  the  mercy  of  Heaven  ?  It  is  as  if  God 
kept  our  secret  soul  opening  in,  on  one  of  its  many  sides, 
only  towards  that  one  Friend  that  is  closer  than  brother, 
or  wife,  or  lover,  —  a  perpetual  memorial  that  without 
him  we  can  do  nothing! 

As  I  bring  this  meditation  towards  an  end,  let  me  ask 
you  to  advert  to  two  of  the  most  common  usurpers  that 
we  irreligiously  thrust  in  to  displace  the  Redeemer  as  the 
source  of  spiritual  power,  —  denying  his  own  word,  that 
without  him  we  can  do  nothing.  I  mean,  first,  material 
nature,  with  its  laws  of  order  and  its  aspect  of  beauty ; 
and  secondly,  self,  —  self  as  independent  of  a  Master. 

Of  the  first,  it  wiU  be  generally  agreed,  I  suppose,  that 
the  places  where  the  grandeur  of  the  visible  creation  is 
most  magnificently  shaped  to  the  eye  are  high  mountains. 
Our  fatal  mistake  is  in  presuming  they  have,  or  could 
have,  any  really  efficacious  influence  on  character,  whether 
by  way  of  incitement  to  holiness  or  restraint  from  sin,  — 
anything  in  fact  beyond  a  certain  vague,  aesthetic,  and 
transient  stimulus  of  the  finer  sentiments,  apart  from  that 
faith  in  Christ  and  his  religion,  with  the  hallowing  asso 
ciations  that  surround  them,  which  we  carry,  or  may  not 
carry,  with  us  to  their  impressive,  august  ritual.  When 
I  have  stood  on  the  loftiest  peak  of  our  Northern  ridge, 
and  looked  off  alone  on  the  vast  billows  of  rock  and  for 
est  that  stretched  like  a  stiffened  sea  below,  or  up  into 
the  sky,  which  seemed  no  nearer,  but  more  immeasurable 
there,  I  confess  one  of  my  first  involuntary  recollections 


307 

went  away  from  the  sublime  scene  about  me  to  the  tides 
of  human  life  rolling  far  off  their  dark  elements  of  re 
morse  for  sin,  of  pain,  and  grief,  and  penitence,  and 
hopeless  love,  and  sighing  of  slaves,  and  baffled  aspira 
tion.  They  sent  no  sound  up  into  that  cold  solitude  ; 
but  the  mortal  breast  I  had  brought  up  with  me  told  me 
they  were  all  living,  and  chafing,  and  surging  on.  And 
so  my  next  thought  was  of  that  Christ  by  whom  this 
hardened  humanity,  waiting  so  many  generations,  must 
be  redeemed.  The  upheaved  and  tangled  rifts  of  rock, 
ploughed  only  by  volcanic  revolutions  and  the  wearing 
weather,  reminded  me  how  the  whole  creation.groaneth 
together  for  the  manifestation  of  the  sons  of  God ;  the 
broken  pillars  of  the  hills  became  prophets  of  the  second 
coming  of  the  Son  of  Man ;  and  from  the  jagged  monu 
ments  of  ancient  change,  Christian  hope  ran  forward  to 
"  Christ's  new  heavens  and  the  new  earth,  wherein  dwell- 
eth  righteousness." 

Or,  finally,  will  you  seek  the  original  fountains  of 
goodness  in  your  own  breast  ?  Blind  and  disappointing 
search !  That  is  a  short  sight  that  can  trace  any  right 
eous  impulse  which  gleams  across  your  soul  only  to 
yourself.  It  has  a  diviner  parentage,  and  a  supernatural 
history.  Its  birth  was  in  the  Spirit  of  the  Most  High. 
The  gracious  influences  set  playing  through  Christendom 
by  the  Holy  One  of  Nazareth  have  nurtured  it.  When 
ever,  after  years  of  ignoble  and  selfish  indolence,  a  sud 
den  conviction  of  uselessness  has  smitten  your  conscience, 
and  then  a  resolve  to  be  a  benefactor  to  some  human  lot 
has  scattered  this  dismal  suspicion  that  you  might  be  liv 
ing  to  no  purpose,  brightening  and  refreshing  your  whole 
heart,  —  it  was  the  gift  of  his  Spirit,  more  than  your  own 
invention,  and  the  glory  should  be  his,  The  noble  host 


308 

of  reformers,  that  have  stood  between  old  abuses  and 
their  victims,  are  his  army.  The  conquerors  of  oppres 
sion,  of  crime,  of  poverty,  of  superstition,  of  oceans  that 
lay  this  side  of  heathenism,  have  all  conquered  in  the 
name  of  Him  who  came  to  open  prison-doors,  and  set  the 
bruised  at  liberty.  The  valiant  priests  of  labor  have 
been  but  servants  of  that  great  High-Priest,  passed  into 
the  heavens,  who  sanctified  all  lawful  industry  when 
he  said,  "  My  Father  worketh  hitherto,  and  I  work." 
The  successful  vindicators  of  sinning  outcasts  have  all 
watched  and  prayed  through  Him  who  came  not  to  call 
the  righteous,  but  sinners,  to  repentance.  And  all  the 
lengthening  train  of  redeeming  charities  and  philanthro 
pies  lift  their  accordant  anthem  to  the  one  Redeemer,  "  Not 
unto  us,  not  unto  us,  but  unto  thy  name  give  glory ! " 

Brethren,  we  have  raised,  I  know,  but  a  corner  of  the 
fold  which  veils  the  strengthening  offices  of  Jesus  to  the 
world.  With  such  animating,  but  all  inadequate  glimp 
ses,  we  must  retire  from  the  unexhausted  theme.  The 
spiritual  power  in  Christ  is  without  limits.  We  call  the 
celestial  spaces,  where  the  planets  swing,  infinite ;  but 
not  as  the  quickening  life  in  our  Lord  is  infinite  ;  for  that 
is  deeper  than  the  sky,  holier  than  its  mystery,  brighter 
than  its  effulgence,  more  inexhaustible  than  its  variety. 
In  the  discoveries  of  astronomy,  it  is  as  if  one  star  after 
another,  like  drops  of  flame,  fell  into  the  field  of  our  vis 
ion  from  some  supreme  and  inexhaustible  stellar  sea,  and 
gave  themselves  into  the  hand  of  Science.  So,  as  we 
study,  with  spiritual  eyes,  into  the  Saviour's  divinity,  one 
after  another  new  points  of  light,  new  traits  of  love,  new 
features  of  blended  majesty  and  tenderness,  gleam  out 
upon  our  gratitude.  We  have  only  to  look  to  find. 
The  heart's  matchless  telescope  is  simple,  childlike  faith. 


THE    SOUL'S    DEPENDENCE    ON    CHRIST.  309 

And  every  spot  of  common  life  where  Providence  plants 
our  feet  is  an  observatory,  —  if  we  will  but  stand  in  it 
looking  upward,  devoutly  upward,  — lofty  enough  for  the 
whole  sweep  of  that  condescending  heaven. 

As  we  go,  and  wherever  we  stand,  let  us  remember, 
that,  for  truths  revealed  from  above,  duties  are  to  be  prac 
tised  on  earth ;  for  gifts  of  the  Spirit  granted,  works  of 
the  heart  and  hand  are  enjoined.  What  remains,  then, 
but  that  we  go  to  Him  without  whom  we  can  do  nothing  ? 
Go  with  resolute  obedience ;  go  with  grateful  trust,  — 
the  inspiring  trust  that  you  can  do  all  things  through 
Christ  strengthening  you ! 


SERMON      XXI. 

THE   HIDDEN   LIFE. 

YOUR  LIFE   IS   HID   WITH   CHRIST  IN   GOD.  —  Col.    ill.    3. 

WHAT  gives  the  doctrine  of  Christ's  mediatorship  its 
practical  dignity,  is  not  only  its  unspeakable  display  of 
Divine  mercy  in  the  redemption  from  sin  by  the  cross, 
but  also  its  wonderful  fitness  to  invigorate  and  encourage 
a  spiritual  life  in  the  believer.  It  is  a  striking  fact  of  our 
inward  economy,,  and  is  one  of  the  proofs  that  we  are 
attempered  for  spiritual  uses,  that,  the  loftier  the  exalta 
tion  we  ascribe  to  the  Saviour  in  his  divineness,  the  more 
intimately  always  we  find  him  related  to  the  sympathies 
of  our  humanity.  It  is  they  that  most  elevate  him  in 
honor,  who  find  him  nearest  to  the  affections,  and  most 
efficient  as  a  helper  to  familiar  duties.  This  is  where  a 
superficial  criticism,  founded  on  a  shallow  experience, 
constantly  stumbles.  When  we  have  .received  a  Re 
deemer  whose  being  reaches  back  into  the  fellowships  of 
the  Father's  bosom  and  glory,  we  have  also  received  one 
who  abides,  with  mighty  ministries,  in  the  fellowship  of 
the  Church,  and  in  the  disciple's  breast,  to  this  day. 
The  most  reverential  view  of  God  manifest  in  the 
flesh  is  the  largest  producer  of  daily  holiness,  as  well  as 
the  dearest  to  the  heart.  And  thus  it  is  proved,  as  in 


THE    HIDDEN    LIFE.  311 

many  instances  besides,  that  those  truths  which  most 
rouse  a  religious  veneration  are  best  adapted  to  inspire 
simple  goodness  of  character ;  and  what  is  most  pro 
foundly  spiritual  is  also  most  directly  practical. 

"  The  life  that  is  hid  with  Christ  in  God."  This  is  one 
of  those  illimitable  utterances  of  the  mind  of  the  Spirit, 
which  suggest  so  much  to  faith  through  the  imagination, 
that  we  feel  as  soon  as*  we  repeat  them  how  utterly  im 
possible  it  is  to  fathom  or  exhaust  their  meaning.  Deep 
opens  below  deep.  But  for  the  condescending  guidance 
of  the  same  Spirit,  we  might  well  retire,  discouraged  and 
dumb,  from  a  theme  so  august.  May  the  Divine  pity  for 
give  our  errors  and  lighten  our  darkness ! 

After  the  appearance  of  the  Son  of  God  in  his  per 
sonal  ministry,  eighteen  centuries  and  a  half  ago,  in 
Bethlehem,  the  first  fact  we  encounter,  in  the  historic 
consciousness  of  the  Church,  is  his  invisible  supremacy 
as  its  Head  and  Lord,  not  less  in  the  private  hearts  of  dis 
ciples  than  in  their  public  organization  and  missionary 
activity.  No  sooner  was  Jesus  lifted  up  from  the  earth, 
than  we  find  his  Apostles,  with  the  widest  personal  diver 
sities  of  habits  and  tastes,  singularly  united  in  that  one 
common  bond  of  a  hidden  life^  —  hidden  as  to  its  spring, 
but  open  as  the  day  in  its  generous  and  beneficent  effects. 
Journey  where  they  will,  their  eyes  turn  always  to  one 
transcendent  image,  ascended,  indeed,  into  the  heavens, 
but  still  giving  gifts  unto  men.  Their  hearts  cling  de 
voutly  to  one  invisible  Master.  Their  lips  bear  always 
upon  them  one  all-prevailing  name.  Their  prayers  are 
all  breathed  through  one  intercessor.  Their  thanksgiv 
ings  and  songs  of  triumph  end  with  one  ascription,  "  To 
Him  who  died,  yea,  rather,  who  is  risen  again."  At  every 
step  in  those  fearful  perils,  —  from  solitary  wildernesses 


312 


THE    HIDDEN    LIFE. 


where  they  flew  with  the  standard  of  the  cross,  from 
crowded  cities  and  old  temples,  on  the  sea  in  storms  at 
midnight,  amidst  the  brilliant  enchantments  of  Corinth, 
in  the  Athenian  Agora,  before  the  judgment-seats  of 
tyranny,  under  the  shadows  of  the  Parthenon  or  of  a 
Libyan  palm-tree  in  a  sultry  noon,  with  the  barbarians 
at  Melita,  in  prisons,  in  love-feasts,  —  everywhere,  they 
felt  their  hands  to  be  laid  in  one  sure  and  mighty  hand, 
leading,  blessing,  delivering,  serving  them.  One  Divine 
form  walked  ever,  in  brightness,  among  the  "  seven  gold 
en  candlesticks "  whereon  they  had  lighted  church  fires. 
Descend  into  the  Roman  Catacombs  that  modern  curios 
ity  has  opened,  and  there,  where  they  used  to  hide  from 
persecution,  and  spread  the  Lord's  Supper  on  the  sepul 
chral  tablets  of  their  dead,  every  inscription,  symbol,  mon 
ogram,  points  to  one  incorruptible  Shepherd.  The  con 
stant  confession  of  each  of  them  was,  "  Of  mine  own 
self  I  can  do  nothing  "  ;  but  the  great  assurance  followed 
instantly,  "  I  can  do  all  things  through  Christ  strength 
ening  me." 

And  so  it  has  been  in  the  true  line  of  spiritual  descent 
ever  since.  Personal  fellowship  with  Christ  has  been  the 
hereditary  blood  in  the  veins  of  the  Church.  Wherever 
genuine  piety  has  burned,  there  this  Apostolic  sentiment 
and  power,  the  love  of  Jesus,  has  been  the  animating 
force,  —  distinct  from  nature-worship,  from  moral  sci 
ence,  from  the  religion  of  prudence,  from  the  culture  of 
proprieties.  And  this  inward  life,  "hid  with  Christ  in 
God,"  is  the  life  we  have  now  to  interpret.  I  propose  to 
ask  what  it  is  founded  in,  what  it  is  in  itself,  and  what 
are  the  fruits  it  yields, —  or  as  to  its  necessity,  its  nature, 
and  its  results. 

I.    The   necessity  for  sharing  the   Mediator's  life   is 


THE    HIDDEN    LIFE.  313 

within  the  soul  itself.  It  is  implicated  in  the  essential 
conditions  of  our  spiritual  being.  We  are  not  obliged  to 
search  for  it  in  any  mystical  or  strange  region  of  specula 
tion,  but  in  the  most  natural  and  obvious  of  our  feelings. 
The  simplest  analysis  of  humanity  discovers  it,  lying  ev 
ident  among  the  elemental  facts  of  life.  For  the  wisest 
philosophy  is  not  more  sure  to  recognize,  at  last,  this 
cry  for  the  Son  of  God,  among  the  profound  and  primi 
tive  prophecies  of  our  inward  constitution,  than  the  most 
unsophisticated  common  sense  is  to  confess  it,  amidst 
the  daily  discipline  of  the  heart. 

It  springs  out  of  both  of  the  two  sides  of  an  earnest 
experience  in  human  nature,  the  consciousness  of  spirit 
ual  deficiency,  and  the  notion  of  perfection,  —  our  dis 
content  with  what  we  are,  and  our  desire  for  what  we 
were  meant  to  be. 

We  all  feel,  —  at  least  if  our  life  amounts  to  anything 
that  deserves  to  be  called  an  experience,  —  that  we  are 
not  what  we  ought  to  be ;  that  we  are  terribly  otherwise. 
Let  us  not  try  to  get  around  the  fact.  These  hearts  — 
our  own  hearts  —  have  taken  in  other  guests  than  purity 
and  honor,  devotion  and  disinterested  love.  These  lips, 
—  have  they  never  displaced  the  honest  words  of  charity 
and  prayer  for  bitterness  and  mockery  ?  These  hands 
have  been  about  other  than  the  Father's  business,  — 
those  royal  services  of  justice  and  mercy.  Has  there 
been  no  jealousy  in  our  dispositions,  or  overreaching  in 
our  dealings,  or  conceit  in  our  self-esteem,  or  arrogance 
in  our  social  intercourse,  indolence  in  our  habits,  extrav 
agance  in  our  luxuries,  slander  and  equivocation  in  our 
talk,  vanity  in  the  appointments  of  persons  and  house 
holds,  intolerance  in  our  judgments,  hypocrisy  in  our  pro 
fessions, —  none  of  the  radically  impious  love  of  the  world 

27 


314  THE    HIDDEN    LIFE. 

with  which  the  love  of  the  Father  makes  no  compromise  ? 
Now,  if  we  were  under  the  government  of  abstract  laws, 

—  as    Materialism    says  we   are,   and  as  the   Pantheist 
will  say,  whenever  he  is  both  logical  and  honest,  —  then 
this  sense  of  deficiency  would  remain  only  a  moderate, 
intellectual,    and   inoperative    discontent;    for   it   would 
show  us  to  have  fallen  short  only  of  an  ideal  standard ; 
it  would  trouble  us  only  with  the  negative  feeling  of  hav 
ing  failed  of  something  which  we  might  have  achieved, 
and  of  having  abused  the  possibilities  of  our  capacity ; 
so  that  we  should  be  but  offenders  against  our  own  am 
bition,  —  not  sinners,  but  only  mistaken  or  undeveloped 
specimens.     On  the  contrary,  we  are  under  the  govern 
ment  of  a  God  who  has  both  personality  and  conscious 
ness,  who  is  the  very  essence  and  source  of  ah1  personal 
consciousness,  and  whose  hourly  dealings   with  us  are 
direct  and  intimate.     Our  goings  astray,  the  Gospel  says, 
are  not  mistakes,  but  sins,  —  not  abstractions,  but  con 
crete  crimes, — not  merely  dwarfings  of  our  manhood's 
stature,  but  affronts  against  an  affectionate  Father.    They 
disturb  the  harmony  and  benefit  and  beauty  of  a  gra 
cious  intercourse  between  the  parent  and  the  child.     God 
has  spoken  ;  we  have  heard.     God  has  commanded ;  you 
and  I  have  disobeyed.     He  commands  every  day  afresh, 

—  publishing  a  new  apocalypse  of  our  duty  with  every 
sunrise.     But  every  day  afresh  we  are  selfish,  and  petu 
lant,  and  censorious,  and  proud,  and  not  quite  sincere ; 
our  purity  is  not  white ;  some  duplicity  creeps  into  our 
conversation ;  some  bodily  sacrilege  profanes  God's  tem 
ple.     The  law  is  holy,  just,  and  good.     Our  lives  are  not 
holy,  nor  just,  nor  good.     It  is  nowhere  written  that  we 
may  partly  keep  that  law  and  partly  break  it,  and  yet  go 
acquitted.     But  we  break  it  still.     Suppose  the  past  score 


THE    HIDDEN    LIFE.  315 

settled  by  our  repentance ;  even  if  the  integrity  of  the 
Divine  government  were  left  unimpaired,  we  have  no 
reason  to  think  we  shall  be  perfect  men  or  blameless 
women  in  the  future.  We  are  rather  painfully  and 
shamefully  certain  that,  after  all  our  endeavors,  we  shall 
sin  again  and  again.  What  then  were  our  life,  without 
a  Mediator  reconciling  it  ?  What,  if  Christ,  coming  in 
from  above  its  broken  strength,  did  not  touch  it  with  his 
inspiration,  renew  it  by  his  grace,  sanctify  it  by  his  love  ? 
What  if  he,  who  alone  is  competent,  uniting  both  the 
estranged  elements  in  his  own  redeeming  person,  did  not 
come  and  take  this  fallen  life,  and  quicken  it  by  the 
breathing  of  his  spirit,  and  revive  its  torpor  by  his  truth, 
and  warm  its  frost  in  his  bosom,  and  restore  its  deadness 
by  his  intercession,  —  and  thus  hide  it  again,  with  himself, 
in  God  ?  What  would  it  be,  except  it  were  thus  ani 
mated  by  his  indwelling  power,  were  forgiven  by  the 
pardon  which  no  other  voice  on  earth  but  his  ever  prom 
ised,  and  no  other  seal  but  his  death  could  ever  accred 
it  ?  Past  offences  are  then  blotted  out.  The  penitent 
passes  into  the  disciple.  Memories  of  transgression 
torment  no  more.  So  that  thenceforth,  Christ  being 
formed  within  him,  the  believer  might  say,  "This  life 
that  I  live  in  the  flesh,  I  live  by  faith  in  the  Son  of  God, 
who  gave  himself  for  me."  It  is  a  life  hid  with  Christ 
in  God. 

On  the  other  side,  there  is  the  native  notion  of  perfec 
tion.  That  trace  of  glory  past,  and  pledge  of  immor 
tality  yet  to  be,  lingers,  in  most  minds,  a  witness  of 
Heaven  among  so  many  tokens  of  shame.  The  soul 
will  not  be  content  with  degradation.  The  prodigal  re 
fuses  to  eat  husks  with  the  swine.  The  sensualist  has 
better  moments,  when  he  loathes  the  companionships, 


316  THE    HIDDEN    LIFE. 

and  the  kennel,  of  his  appetites.  The  hard  idolater  of 
money  relents,  and  has  a  brief  vision  of  something  better 
worth  his  striving  than  dividends  and  profits.  The  schol 
ar  is  kindled  by  momentary  glances  of  an  ambition  that 
aspires  beyond  office  or  reputation,  or  any  of  the  praises 
of  earthly  emulation.  Nicodemus  dreams  of  a  charac 
ter  saintlier  than  a  Pharisee,  and  wakes  and  feels  his  way 
to  Christ  by  night.  Woman  is  wretched  among  her  or 
naments  and  accomplishments  and  admirations,  and  feels 
insulted  when  your  compliments  imply  that  these  empti 
nesses  are  the  stateliest  honors  her  heart  knows  how  to 
worship.  Even  the  woman  that  was  vile,  in  some  peni 
tential  moment  is  irresistibly  attracted  to  the  Saviour. 
Tears  from  the  spring  that  has  been  so  long  dry,  to  wash 
those  blessed  feet;  the  hair  that  a  meretricious  vanity  had 
often  braided,  more  eagerly  loosened  to  wipe  them ;  kisses 
of  purified  passion ;  the  ointment,  not  too  costly  if  it  im 
poverishes  her  for  ever,  —  what  signals  of  an  indestructi 
ble  longing  for  holiness  deep  down  in  the  breast  of  sin! 
The  young  man  comes  to  Jesus  with  that  mournful  con 
fession  and  question,  —  the  pathos  of  it  sadder,  I  think, 
than  anything  to  be  read  in  any  tragedy,  — "  The  heights 
of  legal  virtue  gained,  what  lack  I  yet  ?  " 

Here,  again,  if  there  were  no  personal  God  to  whom 
these  aspirations  reach  up,  —  if  they  did  not  culminate, 
at  last,  in  the  supreme  desire  for  harmony  with  the  infi 
nite  and  infinitely  holy  Father,  —  then  we  should  need  no 
personal  Mediator.  These  notions  of  a  more  perfect 
state,  visions  of  a  spotless  virtue,  would  be  only  floating 
and  transient  visitants  to  the  soul,  —  passing  and  leaving 
no  permanent  effect,  like  the  luminous  forms  that  trem 
ble  across  the  night  sky,  transfigure  the  darkness  for  an 
instant,  and  vanish.  They  would  not  consolidate  into 


THE    HIDDEN    LIFE.  317 

principles.  They  would  be  only  the  "haunting  oracles 
that  stir  our  clay,"  which  heathen  souls  knew,  and  heathen 
genius  has  celebrated.  But  the  moment  our  eyes  are 
opened  on  our  true  relations  to  God,  we  see  that  there  is 
no  such  thing  as  a  satisfactory  striving  after  ideal  stand 
ards,  but  only  after  reconciliation  with  him.  We  see  that 
the  restless  heart  gets  peace,  the  moment  it  gets  the  con 
viction  that  God  is  its  friend,  —  or  rather,  that  it  and  God 
are  at  one,  having  one  will  and  one  love.  Whatever  else 
the  world  can  give  us,  it  gives  us  chaff  and  the  east  wind, 
till  it  gives  us  that.  Perfection  of  character  is  not  to  be 
gained  except  by  that  inspiration.  A  peaceful  progress 
in  goodness  comes  only  by  that  faith.  And  now,  again, 
the  only  way  unto  the  Father  is  by  his  Son.  For  in 
Christ  every  ideal  of  spiritual  excellence  is  realized. 
We  have  no  longer  to  aim  at  the  vague  phantom  of  a 
dream,  nor  after  the  cloudy  excellence  of  imagination. 
Christ  is  before  us.  Those  that  place  their  hands  in 
his  he  leads  to  the  Father.  "  All  mine,"  he  says,  "  are 
thine,  and  thine  are  mine."  To  be  Christ-like  is  to  be 
perfect,  —  and  to  have  faith  in  Christ  is  to  be  brought 
nigh  to  God.  Here  is  the  spiritual  bond  which  unites 
our  loftiest  aspirings  with  Heaven,  no  less  than  our 
lowliest  self-accusings.  In  the  Mediator  our  hope  as 
well  as  our  penitence  is  satisfied.  We  are  not  only 
restored  from  what  we  have  been,  —  we  are  helped 
forward  to  what  we  would  be.  If  our  sin  finds  par 
don,  our  love  of  excellence  finds  a  pattern.  Both  sides 
of  our  twofold  nature  are  relieved  and  blessed.  Oar 
whole  humanity  is  redeemed.  No  thought  or  affection, 
but  Christ  leads,  and  trains,  and  unfolds  it.  And  so  oar 
life  at  its  best  estate,  —  whether  that  be  its  humiliation 
or  its  triumph,  — whether  in  the  valley  of  dejection  or  on 

27* 


318  THE    HIDDEN    LIFE. 

the  delectable  mountains  where  the  city  of  God  beckons 
us,  is  "  hid  with  Christ  in  God." 

Here,  then,  lies  the  unchangeable  necessity  of  the  me 
diation  in  Christ,  in  these  two  primary  and  inevitable 
wants  of  every  human  heart,  —  to  be  restored  from  sin, 
and  to  ascend  to  God,  —  to  obtain  forgiveness  for  the 
past,  and  to  go  on  unto  perfection.  In  each  we  should 
be  helpless,  and  could  do  nothing  of  ourselves.  In  both 
we  can  do  all  things  through  Christ  strengthening  us. 

II.  What,  then,  as  the  next  step,  is  this  life,  as  to  its 
nature  ;  or  in  what  special  kinds  of  force  do  its  power 
and  its  peace  and  its  charm  consist  ? 

First  of  all  in  this,  —  that  being  received  into  our  faith 
in  just  these  two  characters  in  which  we  have  seen  that 
our  spiritual  exigencies  need  him,'  Christ  both  creates 
within  the  disciple  the  freedom  that  comes  of  the  con 
sciousness  of  being  forgiven  for  the  past,  and  directs  his 
practical  energies  to  a  model  that  is  divine.  If  you  have 
ever  known,  in  some  early  experience  of  filial  confidence, 
what  it  is,  after  going  burdened  and  stifled  with  the 
sense  of  alienation  from  your  parent,  then  to  have  the 
whole  look  and  feeling  of  the  world  simplified  and 
brightened  by  a  reconciling  explanation,  you  need  no 
other  key  to  the  satisfaction  of  a  conscience  liberated 
from  guilt  by  confession  and  forgiveness.  That  is  the 
beginning  of  all  healthful  obedience.  What  was  dismal 
compulsion  before  becomes  a  spontaneous  and  free-will 
offering  now.  Life  seems  to  start  from  another  point, 
to  proceed  by  another  principle,  to  tend  to  another  issue. 
Its  spring  is  gratitude,  not  law;  its  principle  is  love, 
not  fear  ;  its  end  is  the  Divine  glory  and  the  good  of 
man,  not  a  selfish  salvation.  And  just  in  proportion  to 
the  joy  of  being  set  free  from  the  frightful  phantom  of 


THE    HIDDEN    LIFE.  319 

the  old  terror  of  judgment  will  be  the  personal  and  con 
fidential  intimacy  with  Him  by  whom  that  deliverance 
comes.  The  life  is  hid,  thankfully  and  joyously,  "  in 
God  "  ;  but  it  is  "  with  Christ "  that  it  is  hid.  For,  ex 
punge  from  history  the  ministry  and  cross  of  Jesus,  and 
tell  me  in  what  other  Gospel,  in  all  the  literatures  of  the 
tribes  of  men,  you  will  look  for  the  glad  tidings  to  peni 
tence,  —  "  Thy  sins  are  forgiven  thee  "  ?  Every  ascrip 
tion  of  gratitude  will  be  a  conscious  recognition  of  what 
Christ  has  done,  and  will  interweave  the  believer's  life 
more  closely  with  his. 

But  again,  the  spiritual  life  depends  on  Christ  in  that 
he  becomes  a  Divine  Pattern  for  the  energies  that  form 
character.  At  every  stage  of  growth,  under  all  the 
phases  of  conflict,  in  the  development  of  each  proportion 
and  feature,  the  soul  finds  an  original  in  the  spiritual 
symmetry  of  its  tempted,  suffering,  sinless  Lord.  But 
this  doctrine  of  Jesus  as  our  example  seems  to  me  to 
lose  its  grandest  inspiration,  when  we  contemplate  him 
as  standing  apart  from  his  followers,  raised  on  the  pedes 
tal  of  mere  historic  honors,  a  being  of  a  distant  age,  and 
thus  maintaining  towards  them  only  the  cold  and  mechan 
ical  relation  of  a  model  to  the  artist.  We  need  to  bring 
him  into  the  sphere  of  our  personal  contact  and  sym 
pathy.  The  example  is  not  a  statue  outside  of  us,  but 
a  vital  force  working  within  us.  To  have  our  life  hid 
with  him,  we  must,  in  the  Apostle's  significant  language, 
have  "  Christ  formed  within  us."  And  when  we  look  to 
him  for  a  pattern,  it  must  not  be  the  Christ  of  Judaea 
and  of  Caesar's  time,  so  much  as  the  Christ  of  our  own 
indwelling  humanity  and  of  to-day,  —  not  the  Hebrew 
Messiah,  but  the  ever-living  Immanuel.  Paul  had  that 
fellowship  so  palpably,  that  he  said,  "  It  is  not  I  that  live, 
but  Christ  that  liveth  in  me.'' 


320  THE    HIDDEN    LIFE. 

So  it  is  that,  in  order  to  have  our  inward  life  in  the 
profoundest  sense  hid  with  him,  we  must  become  con 
scious  of  some  present  and  personal  relations  to  him. 
I  do  not  speak  of  a  mystical  or  visionary  fellowship. 
Like  other  spiritual  attainments,  this  conviction,  that  the 
Saviour  who  died  for  your  soul  must  still  know  its  weak 
ness,  and  visit  it  in  its  danger,  and  comfort  it  in  its  sor 
row,  and  chasten  it  in  its  wilfulness,  must  be  made 
strong  by  exercise.  It  will  be  a  palpable  and  refreshing 
reality  only  to  those  who  have  cultivated  it,  and  prayed 
for  it:  in  different  degrees  distinct,  according  to  the 
measure  of  the  desire,  and  possible  at  all  only  to  those 
who  have  got  so  far  clear  of  the  tyranny  of  the  sens 
uous  understanding,  as  to  give  free  play  to  the  faith, 
that  things  which  are  impossible  to  men  are  possible 
with  God.  Let  that  beautiful  confidence  once  secure 
a  lodgement,  however  frail,  in  the  soul,  and  it  opens 
into  ever-enlarging  and  cheering  demonstrations ;  the 
Christian  conflict  becomes  a  more  animating  struggle 
under  the  eye  of  that  heavenly  Leader ;  he  that  mediated 
for  Peter  and  John  mediates,  not  by  a  presumptuous 
metaphor,  but  literally  and  veritably,  for  me ;  "  Lo,  I  am 
with  you  alway,"  becomes  a  universal  promise  to  the 
Church ;  the  bread  and  cup  are  more  than  memorials  of 
an  absent  Saviour,  —  they  are  the  symbols  of  a  friend 
ship  abiding  and  inseparable.  Whatever  accommodated 
meanings  our  hard  and  rationalizing  interpretations  may 
put  into  the  apostolic  language  now  that  it  is  written, 
—  would  Paul  and  his  companions  have  ever  said  any 
thing  to  us,  think  you,  of  such  transcendent  realities  as 
the  "life  that  is  hid  with  Christ  in  God,"  if  they  had 
imagined  Christ  to  be  a  departed  benefactor,  whom  the 
Church  was  to  know  only  through  its  memory  ?  Nay, 


THE    HIDDEN    LIFE.  321 

neither  the  imagination  nor  the  memory  was  a  faculty 
they  had  any  use  for,  in  expounding  the  doctrine  of 
Jesus.  They  kneiv  in  whom  they  believed,  and  they 
knew  that  He  was  with  them  always. 

Again,  "  the  life  that  is  hid  with  Christ  in  God  "  is  a 
life  that  is  perpetually  reinvigorated  from  a  conviction 
that  Christ  imparts  to  the  soul  what  is  more  than  his 
teachings,  and  more  than  his  example,  —  even  the  direct 
quickening  of  his  inward  spirit.  It  is  as  if  God  had  said: 
"  This  world  of  mankind  has  gone  infatuated  and  stupid. 
Its  very  capacity  of  spiritual  apprehension  is  stultified. 
Lo,  I  will  breathe  into  it  another  breath.  I  will  clothe 
my  only-begotten  Son  in  a  mortal  shape  ;  by  that  incar 
nation,  all  humanity  shall  be  informed  with  a  new  vital 
ity."  And  this  animating  force,  reviving  the  race,  is 
received  by  faith.  It  is  another  world  we  live  in  since 
that  incarnation.  A  new  quality  was  poured  into  all  the 
channels  of  human  thought  and  feeling.  The  paralytic 
frame  was  touched  by  a  heavenly  energy  from  within, 
and  started  into  a  nobler  attitude.  Nor  is  the  gift  lim 
ited  or  partial.  Wherever  any  soul  leans  its  affections 
on  the  breast  of  Jesus,  returning,  homesick,  from  what 
ever  wandering  or  sorrow,  there,  as  once  to  the  beloved 
disciple,  the  Master  tells  his  secret,  and  thenceforth  — 
O  joy  that  passeth  knowledge  !  —  the  "  life  is  hid  with 
Christ  in  God." 

But  furthermore,  this  doctrine  of  spiritual  union, 
through  Christ,  with  God,  affects  devotion.  He  who 
is  conscious  of  that  internal  fellowship  knows  it  by  the 
richer  interest,  and  the  intenser  relish,  given  to  his  pray 
ers.  For  it  reveals  Christ  as  what  the  New  Testament 
so  often  represents  him,  our  "  advocate  with  the  Father." 
How  can  he  intercede  for  us,  but  by  a  present  acquaint- 


322  THE    HIDDEN    LIFE. 

ance  with  our  needs  ?  Praying  "  in  the  name  of  Christ " 
is  something  more,  my  friends,  than  repeating  the  sylla 
bles  of  a  proposition  at  the  end  of  our  petitions.  No 
form  of  words  like  that  can  wing  any  supplication  in  a 
stronger  flight  heavenwards,  nor  return  us  spiritual  gifts. 
Praying  in  the  name  of  Christ  must  be  praying  from  the 
feeling  that  he  knows  the  substance  of  our  prayer,  that 
he  knows  the  heart  it  confesses,  and  that  he  aids  it  now 
by  his  prevailing  sympathies,  as  much  as  he  aided  it 
when  he  stood  in  Judaea,  and  taught  his  followers  how 
to  say  "  Our  Father."  But  this  will  be  confidently  af 
firmed  by  those  whose  experience  has  ever  ascended 
from  the  prayer  of  nature  to  the  prayer  through  an  in 
terceding  Christ,  —  that  the  latter  gains  as  immeasura 
bly  on  the  former,  in  its  claim  and  its  satisfaction,  as 
the  religion  of  the  New  Testament  is  dearer  and  more 
consoling  than  the  religion  of  sunset  skies,  of  cabinets, 
and  observatories,  and  regularities  of  nature.  "  Whatso 
ever  ye  shall  ask  in  my  name,  that  shall  ye  receive."  If 
you  need  the  Master  in  the  sharp  temptations  of  the 
market-place,  the  cares  of  the  household,  the  bewilder 
ments  of  business,  and  the  seductions  of  society,  you 
surely  cannot  bear  to  part  with  him  in  the  closet.  And 
if  you  have  walked  with  him,  to  catch  his  celestial  wis 
dom,  among  the  ships  on  the  shore  of  the  sea,  you  will 
not  forget  how  he  goes,  at  nightfall,  to  the  mountain,  to 
pray  for  the  world. 

How  strikingly  it  unfolds  the  plans  of  the  Eternal 
Spirit  in  our  behalf,  that  even  in  those  relations  and  du 
ties  which  lie  most  directly  between  our  souls  and  the 
Father,  —  duties  and  relations  in  which  we  might  there 
fore  seem  to  be  most  independent  of  a  mediator,  —  prac 
tically  even  there  the  highest  style  of  piety  is  rarely 


THE    HIDDEN    LIFE.  323 

found  without  a  lively  sense  of  Christ.  That  central 
and  comforting  faith,  for  instance,  that  every  concern  in 
bur  lives,  from  those  that  our  fallible  estimates  pronounce 
the  most  momentous  to  the  most  minute,  are  directly 
contrived  for  us  by  an  interested  and  sympathizing  God, 
whose  hand  is  for  ever  shaping  and  guiding  and  bending 
every  little  force  and  event  in  our  discipline  towards  a 
definite  and  special  end,  —  a  faith  which  embosoms  us 
in  a  care  so  immediate  and  so  fatherly,  that  we  almost 
want  some  warmer  word  than  Providence  to  express  it, 
—  that  is  not  found,  in  its  most  radiant  and  effective  ex 
ercise,  I  think,  except  in  hearts  that  are  most  alive  with 
the  personal  love  for  Christ.  Our  life  seems  never,  in  any 
way,  to  be  really  hid  in  God,  except  with  and  through 
his  Son,  —  and  because  that  is  the  divinely  ordered  way. 
III.  What,  then,  is  this  life  as  to  its  results  ?  I  an 
swer,  first  of  all,  it  is  the  life  of  love.  If  it  is  hid  "  with 
Christ,"  it  is  penetrated  with  the  spirit  of  Him  who  loved 
as  man  never  loved.  If  it  is  hid  "  in  God,"  it  is  suffused 
by  the  affections  of  Him  whose  name  is  Love.  No  man 
hating  his  brother  can  abide  in  that  fellowship,  —  no  un 
merciful  despiser  of  the  poor,  —  no  bigot,  whether  in 
the  creed  of  church,  or  science,  or  fashion,  —  no  self- 
avenger,  —  no  cherisher  of  vindictive  passions  or  ancient 
grudges,  —  no  oppressor,  whether  on  a  throne,  a  plantation, 
in  a  family,  a  factory,  a  parlor,  or  a  shop,  —  no  conceited 
Pharisee,  whose  dress  publishes  the  pride  of  rank  by 
fabric  or  by  phylactery,  whose  manners  boast  perpetually, 
"  I  am  holier  than  thou."  Jesus  is  charity,  —  charity 
conscious  and  living.  To  live  in  him  is  to  live  merci 
fully,  fraternally,  liberally.  When  the  world's  inmost 
life  is  hid  with  him,  its  outward  life  will  be  humane  and 
beautiful.  The  members  of  his  body  will  cease  to  be 


324  THE    HIDDEN    LIFE. 

fratricidal.  The  bloodshed  and  aggressions  of  nations, 
the  overreachings  of  commerce,  the  unequal  administra 
tion  of  governments,  the  barbarous  contrasts  in  Christian 
cities,  the  private  hatreds  that  disfigure  households,  will 
yield  to  a  constructing  and  benignant  principle  of  heav 
enly  order.  The  indwelling  affections  of  a  brotherhood 
will  break  forth  into  fresh  and  fairer  forms  of  fellow-ser 
vice  every  hour,  colonizing  the  planet  with  apostles  of 
generosity.  "  I  in  them,  and  thou  in  me,  that  they 
may  be  one."  The  social  life  of  the  disciples  hid  with 
Christ  in  God ! 

This  life,  therefore,  fast  as  it  is  admitted  to  dominion 
in  the  soul,  solves  the  old  theological  contradiction  be 
tween  works  and  faith.  For  it  gets  down  below  the 
roots  of  that  barren  quarrel,  and  shows  that  all  rich  and 
noble  works  must  spring  out  of  a  faithful  heart.  No 
true,  strong  Christian  character  was  ever  fashioned  by  dis 
connected  impulses.  There  must  be  an  organizing  force. 
Christian  character  is  not  a  mosaic  of  moralities,  nor  a 
compilation  of  merits,  nor  a  succession  of  acts,  nor  an  ag 
gregate  of  amiabilities.  It  is  a  growth.  And  that  principle 
of  interior  vitality  out  of  which  it  unfolds  branches  and 
foliage  and  flowers,  is  the  life  of  God  planted  through 
Christ  in  the  soul.  We  confound  the  whole  philosophy 
of  our  being,  when  we  think  to  attain  to  goodness,  which 
is  salvation,  by  beginning  on  the  surface  and  working 
down.  What  we  have  to  do  is  to  receive  Christ  inward 
ly,  and  then  the  fruits  of  daily  righteousness  will  spring 
forth,  as  naturally  as  leaves  on  a  tree  or  streams  from  a 
fountain.  We  cannot  keep  them  back,  except  we  crush 
out  and  crucify  this  Christ  within.  'They  need  no  for 
cing.  Believing  and  doing  will  not  be  separate  pro 
cesses,  of  which  you  may  take  one  away  and  leave  the 


THE    HIDDEN    LIFE.  325 

other.  That  mistake  grew  up  in  the  creeds  only  when 
faith  degenerated  from  this  living  and  spiritual  power 
into  a  dogmatic  and  ecclesiastical  letter.  But  in  what 
ever  heart  Christ  really  dwells  by  faith,  there  holiness  in 
all  forms  of  manly  uprightness,  womanly  serenity,  con 
scientious  citizenship,  intellectual  sincerity,  truthful  talk, 
honest  trade,  beneficent  industry,  will  be  the  inevitable 
harvest,  and  the  reapers  of  a  nobler  civilization  shall  come 
singing,  bringing  these  sheaves  with  them. 

Thus  the  doctrine  gives  the  world  truth  as  well  as 
love,  —  truth,  the  absolute  and  immortal  treasure  that 
the  soul  of  humanity  has  been  searching  for  from  the 
beginning,  —  truth,  the  pure  and  colorless  element,  that 
is  to  the  mind  what  light  is  to  the  eye,  and  reveals  the 
scenery  of  the  inward  world,  as  the  sun  shows  the  head 
lands  and  offing  and  hill-tops  of  the  globe,  —  truth  in  all 
its  uncompromising  rigor  and  concrete  applications;  — 
not  the  conventional  veracity  of  the  warehouse  and  the 
drawing-room,  that  is  satisfied  if  it  equivocates  with  ly 
ing  labels  upon  merchandise,  and  evasions  in  the  bargain, 
and  artifices  in  courts  of  law,  or,  in  general  society,  with 
silly  falsehoods  of  flattery,  or  cowardly  falsehoods  to 
avoid  offence,  or  malicious  falsehoods  to  breed  alienation 
and  give  jealousy  its  disgusting  triumph;  —  but  an  alto 
gether  stricter,  holier  thing.  For  if  you  once  suppose 
Jesus  to  be  admitted,  in  all  the  purity  of  his  transparent 
soul,  as  a  visible  witness  among  these  traffickings  and 
assemblies,  who  would  dare  to  confront  with  such  de 
ceptions  the  look  of  his  divine  rebuke  ?  Christ,  then, 
hid  in  the  heart,  is  the  test  and  guardian  of  truth. 

And  of  justice,  no  less ;  not  that  formal  honesty  which 
is  only  a  moral  name  for  the  selfish  policy  that  is  just  as 
radically  unrighteous  under  one  name  as  another;  not 

28 


326  THE    HIDDEN    LIFE. 

the  legal  integrity  that  has  no  higher  sanction  than  the 
letter  of  a  statute-book,  and  so  cheats  the  helpless,  or  de 
frauds  by  indirection,  or  steals  a  competitor's  reputation; 
but  rather  that  spiritual  justice  which  treats  every  human 
heart  uprightly  because  it  is  a  child  of  God,  —  and  is 
honest,  with  the  genuine  and  thorough  honesty  that  goes 
unbent  through  all  temptations,  needs  no  certificates, 
hides  behind  no  corporation  privileges,  —  and  stands  as 
mucli  in  awe  of  the  divine  law  of  right  in  a  servant  or  of 
fice-boy,  as  in  any  board  of  trade  or  missions,  and  would 
as  soon  be  a  defaulter  to  the  most  merciless  creditor  of 
the  exchange,  as  to  a  mechanic  or  a  slave ;  —  a  Christian 
justice.  •  "  For  if  any  man  have  not  the  spirit  of  Christ, 
he  is  none  of  his." 

The  hiding  of  our  life  with  Christ  corrects  the  theo 
logical  error  of  these  modern  times,  which  treats  religion 
as  a  product  of  humanity,  a  discovery  of  mortal  inge 
nuity,  rather  than  as  a  help  let  down  from  Heaven. 
Christianity  is  not  an  invention  of  the  ages,  but  a  revela 
tion  from  on  high.  Our  common  religious  notions  are 
vitiated  by  the  idea  that  we  are  to  make  ourselves  accept 
able.  A  few  conquests  over  matter,  a  few  surprises  of 
science,  have  flattered  us  into  the  conceit  that  the  Infinite 
One  must  look  with  vast  complacency  on  our  attain 
ments,  and  so  we  come  to  substitute  decorum  for  piety. 
A  simpler  and  heartier  reception  of  Christ  within  would 
expel  this  eternal  self-reference,  self-measurement,  self- 
inspection.  There  was  a  grand  thought  in  that  saying 
of  a  believer  of  the  primitive  stamp,  —  "  I  do  not  want 
to  possess  a  faith ;  I  want  a  faith  that  shall  possess  me." 
The  safest  strength  of  the  heart  is  the  feeling  of  complete 
dependence.  Paul  was  no  sentimentalist,  and  no  mystic. 
Such  common  sense  and  such  bravery  have  hardly  got 


THE    HIDDEN    LIFE, 


327 


into  the  Church's  brain  and  sinews  since ;  but  he  said, 
knowing  what  he  said,  "  When  I  am  weak,  then  am  I 
strong."  There  is  something  in  this  self-renouncing  and 
trusting  temper  that  makes  piety  fragrant  with  the  air 
of  Gethsemane.  You  find  it  only  where  you  find  the 
life  hid  with  Christ  in  God. 

The  subject  completes  its  circle,  and  so  it  comes-  close 
home.  This  inner  life  in  Christ,  with  all  its  power  and 
peace,  is  offered  to  the  soul,  because  otherwise  the  soul 
is  weak  and  dark.  We  long,  occasionally  at  least,  —  do 
we  not?  —  for  reconciliation  with  the  Almighty  Spirit 
that  lives  and  breathes  on  every  side  of  us,  in  these  skies 
and  shores,  these  heart-beats  in  our  breasts,  and  these 
pulses  of  the  ocean  on  the  beach.  Which  one  of  these 
hearts  is  satisfied  with  what  it  is  ?  Which  of  you  is  con 
tent  —  deeply,  thoroughly  content  —  with  a  decorous  and 
prosperous  and  cultured  career  ?  Is  there  no  crying  out, 
from  within,  for  the  living  God?  Does  not  the  infi 
nite  and  solemn  mystery  challenge  us  from  the  hours  of 
suffering,  and  of  silence,  and  even  of  gladness  itself? 
Does  not  the  very  beauty  of  the  earth  and  the  sea  and 
the  sky  awaken  an  awful  sense  of  the  "  light  that  never 
was  on  sea  or  shore " ;  and  does  not  society  sometimes 
leave  you  weary  and  hungry  and  cold,  and  is  not  the 
fulness  of  joy  attended  by  an  emptiness  that  the  world 
with  its  largest  promise  cannot  fill  ?  Have  you  not  spir 
itual  sensibility  enough  to  feel  yet  that  you  are  poor 
and  blind  and  miserable  and  sinful,  before  God  ? 

These,  then,  are  all  inner  voices  beseeching  for  the  life 
that  is  hid  with  Christ  in  God.  And  so  these  blind  and 
beggared  aspirations  that  the  Spirit  planted  in  us,  lying 
helpless  by  the  way-side  before,  so  soon  as  some  startling 
sound  of  Providence,  or  admonition  of  pain,  informs  them 


328 


THE    HIDDEN    LIFE. 


that  Jesus  of  Nazareth  is  passing  by,  lift  their  supplica 
tions,  like  Bartimeus,  and  cry,  "  Jesus,  thou  Son  of  Da 
vid,  have-  mercy  on  me."  Everything  in  us  that  is  truest 
and  tenderest  in  some  sense  asks  for  the  Christ.  Our 
intellects  entreat  for  him  who  knew  all  that  was  in  man. 
Our  affections  yearn  toward  him  who  so  loved  us  as  to 
give  himself  for  us.  Our  sympathies  supplicate  him  who 
took  our  infirmities  and  bare  our  sicknesses.  Our  house 
hold  love  winds  itself  about  the  gentle  form  that  left 
Jerusalem  and  its  pomps,  at  nightfall,  for  the  retirement 
of  Bethany,  where  were  Mary  and  Martha  and  Lazarus. 
Our  tears  cry  out  for  Him  who  wept  at  his  friend's  grave. 
Our  pain  demands  Him  who  through  suffering  is  made 
perfect,  and  bore  the  nameless  agonies  of  the  Garden. 
Our  more  generous  affections  lay  hold  on  the  disinter 
ested  Lord  that  died,  "the  just  for  the  unjust,"  bringing 
many  sons  into  glory.  Our  joy  takes  a  loftier  freedom 
and  a  holier  tranquillity,  when  it  rises  after  Him  who  re 
joiced  in  spirit,  and  said,  "  Now  is  the  Son  of  Man  glo 
rified."  Our  energies  are  braced  to  new  labors  when  we 
are  with  Him  who  affirmed,  "  My  Father  worketh  hither 
to,  and  I  work."  Our  fainting  hopes  for  another  life 
cling  to  the  ascended  Master  who  is  the  resurrection. 
But  more  than  all  does  our  penitence  beseech,  with  groan- 
ings  that  cannot  be  uttered,  for  the  healing  of  his  cross. 
Thus,  through  ah1  its  deepest  organs,  the  soul  is  kept  mer 
cifully  restless,  till  it  tastes  of  the  life  that  is  hid  with 
Christ  in  God.  At  the  last,  if  never  before,  amidst  its 
final  intellectual  victories,  humanity  takes  up  the  words 
of  one  of  its  own  imperial  children,  and  says,  with  Mi 
chel  Angelo,  writing,  in  his  old  age,  to  Vasari : 

"  Well-nigh  the  voyage  now  is  overpast, 
And  my  frail  bark,  through  troubled  seas  and  rude, 
Draws  near  that  common  haven  where,  at  last, 


THE    HIDDEN    LIFE.  329 

Of  every  action,  be  it  evil  or  good, 

Must  due  account  be  rendered.     "Well  I  know 

How  vain  will  then  appear  that  favored  art, 

Sole  idol  long  and  monarch  of  my  heart ; 

For  all  is  vain  that  man  desires  below. 

And  now  remorseful  thoughts  my  soul  alarm, 

That  which  must  come,  and  that  beyond  the  grave ; 

Picture  and  sculpture  lose  their  feeble  charm, 

And  to  that  Help  divine  I  turn  for  aid, 

Who  from  the  cross  extends  his  arms  to  save." 

We  have  touched  only  the  borders  of  this  great  theme. 
What  else  than  outlines  can  we  hope  to  trace  here,  at 
best,  of  a  doctrine  so  interior  and  so  profound  as  the  in 
ward  relation  of  the  believer  to  his  Lord  ?  I  have  called 
it  a  practical  doctrine  ;  and  because,  when  it  is  received, 
it  affects  with  surpassing  power  the  practice  of  the  Chris 
tian  life.  The  most  intensely  practical  are  the  vital  and 
comprehensive  truths  that  lie  deep  among  the  springs 
of  action  and  emotion,  and  bind  us  to  the  invisible. 
This  doctrine  is  practical  to  the  soul,  as  the  root  is 
practical  to  the  tree,  as  principles  are  to  policies,  as  spirit 
is  to  body,  as  love  to  life,  as  feeling  to  experience ;  and 
just  as  the  Ascension,  the  Transfiguration,  the  Cross,  are 
practical  powers  of  the  New  Testament,  more  than  feed 
ing  the  five  thousand  with  bread,  or  paying  Caesar  his  tax. 
Yes ;  whatever  reaches  down  to  the  sources  of  our  be 
ing,  whatever  changes  the  great  central  currents  of  our 
purpose,  whatever  transfigures  our  conduct,  regenerates 
our  nature,  and  thus  moves  us  to  a  diviner  practice  ev 
ery  way,  —  that  is  practical.  When  our  faith  does  this, 
it  is  a  practical  faith.  And  by  no  appeal  does  it  lay  a 
firmer  hold  on  honest  convictions,  or  animate  holier  ener 
gies,  than  when,  by  the  Spirit's  favor,  it  shows  us  the 
beauty  and  the  strength  of  that  "life  that  is  hid  with 
Christ  in  God." 


SERMON     XXII. 

SPIRITUAL   HEIESHTP.* 

FOR  WE  ARE  THE  CIRCUMCISION,  WHICH  WORSHIP  GOD  IN  THE 
SPIRIT,  AND  REJOICE  IN  CHRIST  JESUS,  AND  HAVE  NO  CONFI 
DENCE  IN  THE  FLESH.  —  Phil.  ill.  3. 

A  SCHOLAR,  trained  at  the  feet  of  Gamaliel,  kneels  be 
fore  "the  Father,  in  spirit";  'a  Pharisee  of  the  strictest 
sect  has  his  shrunk  heart  expanded  into  "joy  in  Christ 
Jesus  " ;  a  proud  professor,  blameless  touching  the  Law, 
feels  "  no  confidence  in  the  flesh."  "  We  are  the  circum 
cision,"  he  says  ;  —  says  it  boldly,  after  this  thorough  re 
adjusting  of  his  religious  relations.  He  thought  so,  as  a 
Jew,  when  there  was  none  to  dispute  the  claim.  As  a 
Christian,  with  all  Jewry  despising  that  claim,  he  is  sure 
of  it.  The  honor  that  his  Jewish  orthodoxy  had  held  with 
a  formal  acceptance,  now,  emerging  into  the  Christian 
heresy,  he  seizes  with  a  fresh  instinct  and  a  more  ner 
vous  appreciation.  What  was  the  dull  privilege  of  con 
formity,  he  finds  burnished  by  the  stripes  of  persecution 
into  a  vivid  and  positive  advantage. 

For  an  advantage  it  unquestionably  must  be.  To  say, 
i  We  are  the  circumcision  "  ;  to  be  clearly  conscious  of 

*  Preached  before  the  "  Autumnal   Convention "  at  Portsmouth,  New 
Hampshire,  October  8,  1851. 


SPIRITUAL    HEIRSHIP.  331 

standing  in  the  right  line  of  spiritual  descent ;  to  hold  in 
our  veins  the  dignity  shed  by  the  elder  covenants ;  to  feel 
our  life  come  "  trailing "  such  "  clouds "  of  transmitted 
"  glory,"  as  the  lustre  of  ephod  and  Shekinah,  Law  and 
oracles ;  to  be  clad,  at  our  swaddling,  with  the  invisible 
sanctities  of  Abraham's  trust,  and  Eli's  reverence,  and 
Samuel's  singleness,  and  Gideon's  courage,  and  Isaiah's 
ardor;  to  inherit,  at  baptism,  such  ancestral  gifts  as  the 
saintly  memory  of  martyrs,  and  the  breath  of  ancient  lit 
anies  ;  —  it  is  no  mean  distinction,  that  it  should  be 
scorned ;  it  is  no  unproductive  element  in  our  expecta 
tions,  that  we  should  alienate  it  without  cause. 

Thoughtful  students  can  hardly  doubt  that  God  has 
meant  his  Church  to  maintain  an  historic  unity.  No  lat 
eral  nor  upward  bend  in  its  growth  has  ever  been  so  ab 
rupt  as  to  choke  the  sap  or  sever  the  sweet  commerce  of 
any  branch  with  the  root.  Even  through  the  most  vio 
lent  divergence  the  channel  of  Church  life  ever  suffered, 
there  yet  flowed  the  old  tide  of  immortal  hope.  Each 
moral  revolution  in  Christendom,  no  less  than  each  theo 
logical  variation,  proves  that  the  essence  of  faith  is  not 
perishable.  The  radical  principle  reappears,  as  sound 
against  the  tooth  of  time  as  it  is  elastic  under  the  hori 
zontal  contortions  of  the  sects.  Something  of  the  primi 
tive  power  goes  into  the  least  offshoot.  The  bond  of 
every  little  budding  brotherhood  with  Christ,  the  Vine, 
is  vascular ;  because  the  Church  is  organic.  The  three 
dispensations  lay  their  ordaining  hands  on  its  head,  with 
patriarchal  blessings,  with  Levitical  unction,  with  a 
Gospel  baptism.  Let  any  holy  family  pitch  its  tent 
where  it  will,  it  shall  not  be  out  of  that  divine  order, — 
reaching  backward  and  forward,  —  Calvary,  Sinai,  and 
Mamre.  We  are  bound  in  by  the  constraint  of  so  heav- 


332  SPIRITUAL    HEIRSHIP. 

enly  a  hospitality ;  and  the  measure  of  our  piety  is  pre- 
,cisely  the  measure  of  our  nearness  to  the  Lord. 

But,  blended  with  this  law  of  its  history,  the  Church 
has  to  recognize  another,  constantly  counterbalancing  the 
gravitation  towards  indolence  that  might  accrue  from  the 
former  alone,  and  checking  its  complacency.  For  as  it 
advances  its  stakes  and  pushes  forward  its  march,  some 
unexpected  crisis  is  always  breaking  up  the  old  distribu 
tion  of  forces ;  the  original  Providence  readjusts  the  lines,. 
—  crosses  the  nominal  with  the  true,  the  formal  with  the 
spiritual,  and  at  all  angles.  Dismissing  former  tests  of 
legitimacy,  it  brings  fresh  affiliations  into  the  family, 
showing  those  often  to  be  of  "  the  circumcision  "  that 
had  before  been  reckoned  with  the  alienage ;  and  dis 
owning  sons  that  forfeit  favor  by  sinning  against  the 
Holy  Ghost.  A  Continental  Protestant  has  lately  com 
plained  that,  in  France,  men  claim  to  be  Christians  by 
birth.  Bringing  their  heraldry  over  from  the  court  into 
the  chapel,  they  really  offer  as  a  qualification  for  com 
munion,  not  a  confession  of  faith,  but  a  pedigree.  Some 
thing  like  this  has  always  been  a  presumption  of  relig 
ious  majorities.  And,  as  if  to  rebuff  it  with  practical 
refutations,  the  propensity  to  prescription  is  no  sooner 
settled,  than  a  reformation  is  sent  to  disturb  it.  A  cor 
ruption  has  to  be  offset  by  an  act  of  surgical  violence. 
Some  Paul  of  Samosata,  a  type  of  worldly  luxury,  or 
some  Constantine,  of  numerical  power,  or  some  Popish 
lineage,  is  always  secularizing  the  Church,  and  then, 
some  impracticable  Wycliffe,  dissenting  Baxter,  or  erratic 
Huss,  sloughs  the  form,  to  act  out  the  substance.  Hyp 
ocrites  vitiate  the  succession,  and  heretics  ennoble  the 
new  blood.  On  some  wild  olive-stock  are  grafted  the 
prolific  juices  of  Christian  life.  When  the  Jews  refuse 


SPIRITUAL    HEIRSHIP.  333 

the  Apostle  of  their  salvation,  lo !  he  turns  to  the  Gentiles. 
As  if  purposely  to  break  up  confidence  in  mere  ecclesi- 
asticism,  and  clear  the  Gospel  of  bondage,  the  visible 
Church  is  scarcely  at  any  epoch  suffered  to  enfold  the 
Church  spiritual  with  a  clean  circumference.  And  the 
instant  any  majority  begins  to  be  at  ease  in  Zion,  some 
terrible  prophet,  fed  on  locusts  and  wild  honey,  with  iron 
hands  and  lightning  on  his  lips,  comes  crying  out  of  the 
wilderness,  "  Repent  1"  shows  what  "  the  circumcision  " 
is,  and  turns  the  world  of  the  Rabbins  upside  down.  But 
always,  observe,  the  old  faith  goes  into  the  living  body. 

So  at  the  present  moment  the  indications  seem  to  fore 
show  that  the  old  order  is  to  be  much  broken  ;  —  scepti 
cism  says,  to  be  finally  dissolved,  —  faith  says,  to  make 
room  for  a  new  and  fairer  order,  descending  like  a  bride 
out  of  heaven. 

Thinking  men  seem  more  and  more  to  agree,  that  un 
less  a  fresh  dispensation  does  set  in,  acting  by  new  affin 
ities,  yet  bringing  on  the  old  spiritual  powers,  the  king 
dom  of  Christ  must  become  a  kingdom  of  this  world. 
For  this  fatal  issue  may  accrue,  not  only  by  the  ever- 
present  solicitations  of  worldliness,  but  by  the  voluntary 
flinging  off  of  our  hereditary  relations,  seeking  by  some 
mortal  contrivance,  and  outside  of  the  Christian  family, 
the  blessing  that  can  fall  only  under  the  parental  nurture 
of  a  Divine  Past. 

I  shall  be  meeting  an  existing  case,  therefore,  if  I  intro 
duce  to  you  the  question,  What  is  the  inheritable  blood? 
What  are  the  conditions,  so  far  as  we  can  discern  them,  of 
that  heirship  in  the  spiritual  fold  ?  Who  are  "  the  circu^i- 
cision"? 

It  urges  the  subject  into  more  importance,  that  Chris 
tendom,  at  present,  offers  proofs  of  so  mischievous  a  dis- 


334  SPIRITUAL    HEIRSHIP. 

regard  for  anything  like  an  organic  unity  of  believers; 
that  we  are  so  much  more  committed  to  a  habit  of  con 
templating  the  Church  as  plural  than  as  one;  that  we 
have  so  far  lost  the  conception  of  the  majesty  of  a  uni 
versal  co-operation  for  regenerating  and  saving  ends  ;  in 
short,  that  we  are  so  careless  whether  we  are  of  "  the 
circumcision,"  or  not. 

In  opening  an  answer  to  the  inquiry  proposed,  I  shall 
not  need  to  travel  out  of  the  method  so  satisfactorily  fur 
nished  by  the  text :  "  We  are  the  circumcision,  which 
worship  God  in  the  spirit,  and  rejoice  in  Christ  Jesus, 
and  have  no  confidence  in  the  flesh." 

I.  "  Which  worship  God  in  the  spirit."  The  first 
proof  of  spirituality  is  prayer ;  and  the  most  subtle  dis 
order  invades  our  religion  when  it  waives  an  act  of  be 
lief  so  primary.  Among  the  sophistries  that  drug  our 
interior  sense  is  this,  —  that  the  children  need  not  even 
ask  their  Father  for  salvation.  "  Under  the  Infinite  Pity 
that  softens  the  skies,"  it  says,  —  "watched  by  a  kind 
ness  so  indiscriminate  and  so  universal  as  God's  must 
be,  if  he  is  Love,  —  indulged  by  a  fond  Deity,  that 
revolts  at  anguish,  and  never  waits  to  bless,  —  we  have 
only  to  build  our  headstrong  civilization  up,  and  ply  our 
petty  industries  among  the  vineyards  here,  un anxious 
about  our  intercourse  with  Heaven."  The  fallacy  lies  in 
the  very  posture  of  the  heart  that  can  tolerate  itself  in 
such  a  plea.  Unless  the  worship  of  the  Father  is  a  priv 
ilege  that  the  soul  cannot  refuse  itself  and  live,  then  the 
devices  of  an  institutional  religion  are  only  an  impo 
sition  on  ourselves  ;  and  the  prayer  that  does  not  breathe 
itself  forth  by  an  impulse  so  spontaneous  that  it  cannot 
be  kept  back,  is  nothing  but  a  barren  form  of  mechanical 
friction,  where  the  galvanizing  of  the  sensibility  exhausts 


SPIRITUAL    HEIRSHIP.  335 

the  strength  on  which  sensibility  depends.  The  moment 
we  come  to  think  of  apologizing  for  a  prayerless  piety, 
our  faces  are  already  turned  aloof  from  God.  When  we 
compose  that  apology  of  a  reliance  on  God's  com 
passion,  we  are  lying  against  His  Witness,  and  the 
grand  old  Puritanic  element  in  all  valiant  piety,  —  awe 
at  God's  sovereignty,  —  has  vanished  from  our  flaccid 
sinews. 

Of  substitutes  for  "  worship  in  spirit,"  our  tendencies 
specially  encourage  two.  The  first  is  a  notion  which,  in 
popular  speech,  gets  no  more  definite  expression  than  that 
forms  of  devotion  are  absolute  hinderances,  and  that  God 
can  be  adored  more  simply  in  his  own  works  than  in 
man's  temples  ;  but  which  rises  under  a  more  refined 
nurture,  through  different  channels,  —  of  artistic  ecstasy, 
mystical  contemplation,  or  philosophical  abstraction, — 
into  the  sombre  dignity  of  Pantheism.  The  impatient 
youth,  bewitched  by  the  conceits  engendered  in  him 
under  crude  studies,  sallies  into  the  fields  on  Sunday 
morning,  elate  with  the  discovery  that  the  sky  is  larger 
than  the  meeting-house ;  and  because  his  mother  had 
the  holy  instinct  to  tell  him,  among  her  lullabies,  what 
Christianity  had  the  grace  to  whisper  down  through 
the  ages  to  her,  —  that  God  built  and  keeps  and  loves 
his  world, —  he  illustrates  his  gratitude  by  ignoring  his 
dependence.  The  artistic  devotee  sees  divinity  enough 
in  the  majesty  moulded  under  the  hands  of  the  old  mas 
ters  ;  why  bend  before  God  seeing  in  secret,  when  color 
and  form  manifest  him,  —  and  what  need  of  a  better 
Intercessor  than  Raphael  ?  The  Mystic  lifts  a  venerating 
glance  at  the  Infinite ;  what  wonder  that  his  worship  of 
the  Mighty  Inane  should  be  inanity  ?  The  Peripatetic 
tells  you  to  follow  hard  after  your  ideals  of  perfec- 


336  SPIRITUAL    HEIRSHIP. 

tion,  and  not  be  tormented  by  verbal  petitions  to  a 
Jehovah  that  after  all  is  only  the  varying  reflection  of 
a  human  conception,  and  therefore  his  immutability  a 
logical  impossibility.  And  the  latest  apology  of  all  for 
prayerless  worshippers  is  that  of  a  sentimentalist,  who 
announces  that,  when  we  are  nearest  to  God,  we  are  too 
near  him  to  speak  to  him ! 

The  mischief  is  not  shut  up  to  the  schools.  It  oozes 
out  from  the  few  scholarly  circles  that  hold  it  with  a 
kind  of  scholastic  innocence,  and  drips  down  upon  the 
masses  of  society,  —  trickling  its  popular  poison  even 
where  the  formulas  that  should  define  it  would  not  be 
accepted,  nor  quite  understood.  Now  and  then  it  gets  a 
pulpit  for  its  receptacle,  and  some  ordained  Platonist  for 
its  vender.  Perhaps  most  of  us  have  known  what  it  is 
to  be  so  far  borne  up  from  the  common  level  of  emo 
tions,  when  we  have  stood  in  the  presence  of  some  sub 
limity  or  loveliness  in  nature,  as  to  have  half  suspected 
in  ourselves  some  new-born  religious  consecration ;  and 
yet,  on  returning  to  the  old  routine  of  business  vexa 
tions,  political  compromises,  and  domestic  trials,  have 
found  the  impression  fleeting,  and  no  permanent  contri 
bution  lodged  in  character.  You  have  mistaken  the 
mythological  influences  of  a  starlighted  sky  for  lessons 
of  faith  ;  and  it  is  not  till  you  stand  under  them,  stripped 
of  hope,  shelterless  as  Lear,  or  solitary  like  Shelley,  or 
bereaved  like  Burke,  that  you  see  how  the  blazing  canopy 
that  animated  your  poetic  reverie  is  cold  as  the  marble 
dome  it  looked  to  childish  wonder,  —  that  the  forehead 
of  midnight  droops  with  no  answer  to  your  sighs,  — 
that  its  splendor  is  not  the  warm  light  of  Home,  —  that 
among  its  constellated  diagrams  shines  no  promise  of  a 
Resurrection. 


SPIRITUAL    HEIRSHIP.  337 

Or  will  you  try  the  experiment  for  a  different  relief? 
Come,  then,  to  a  scene  universally  acknowledged  to  be 
one  of  the  most  impressive  outwardly,  —  some  shore  of 
the  sounding  ocean.  But  come  there  when  conscience 
is  laying  its  scourge  upon  your  heart;  when  remorse 
chases  you  with  inexorable  fury ;  when  the  agonizing 
conviction  of  a  violated  faith  and  an  offended  God  so 
pierces  and  haunts  you,  that  no  ingenuity  can  toss  it 
off,  no  gayety  disarm  it,  no  inebriety  narcotize  it, — 
and  all  that  you  have  you  would  give  for  a  quiet  spirit. 
It  is  no  unfamiliar  emergency.  What,  then,  says  the 
steady  beat  of  the  waters  to  you,  as  they  break  against 
their  barrier  ?  There,  if  anywhere,  you  might  cast  your 
self,  prayerless,  on  those  orderly  appointments  of  Nature 
that  have  perverted  your  homage  ;  for  there  the  stability 
of  Nature,  matching  her  rule  of  resistance  against  her 
ficklest  element,  daily  solving  the  beautiful  equation  of 
a  swinging  globe  with  its  tides  balanced  against  a  shelv 
ing  beach  of  pebbles,  plants  the  finest  symbol  of  her 
regularity.  What  hope,  then,  do  the  winds  that  have 
been  wrestling  so  mightily  with  the  sea,  from  continent 
to  continent,  bear  in  upon  your  bosom,  from  this  wide 
search  upon  the  deep  ?  You  might  as  well  listen  at  the 
perished  shrine  of  a  Delphic  oracle ;  you  might  as  well 
spell  out  some  chance  response  from  the  withered  leaves 
of  the  Sibyl's  cave.  No  rest  from  the  waves  ;  no  par 
don  from  the  breeze!  But,  come  back  to  the  Saviour 
that  once  stilled  the  sea,  and  the  tenderness  that  taught 
us  to  pray,  saying  "  Our  Father,"  tells  us  of  the  joy  in 
heaven  over  every  sinner  that  repenteth.  The  magdalen 
is  accepted.  The  prodigal  is  welcome. 

But  man  is  something  more  than  a  sufferer  to  be  con 
soled,  or  a  penitent  to  be  restored.  He  is  a  workman 

29 


338  SPIRITUAL    HEIRSHIP. 

that  must  work  out  his  salvation,  and  needeth  not  to  be 
ashamed ;  he  is  a  soldier  under  the  Tempter's  siege,  and 
his  summons  is  to  "come  off  more  than  conqueror." 
Consider  the  fundamental  mistake,  if  he  persuades  him 
self  the  earth  he  works  on  does  not  depend  from  Heaven ; 
his  dismal  profligacy,  if,  instead  of  confronting  his  daily 
engagement  in  the  armor  of  a  lowly  prayer,  he  spends  his 
energies  in  laboriously  forgetting  the  Almighty,  and, 
with  the  price  of  a  crippled  manhood,  buys  himself 
orphanage.  Boasting  our  noonday  light,  some  of  us, 
scarcely  visited  by  that  beam  of  truth  that  gleamed  even 
on  the  Stoic  twilight  of  Aratus  and  Cleanthes,  deny  that 
we  are  God's  offspring. 

And  so  a  distinct  form  of  naturalism  is  propagated 
among  us,  under  the  doctrine  that  the  highest  aim  of 
man  is  self-culture,  —  or  the  development  of  the  natural 
faculties.  "  Man  is  here  on  earth,"  says  a  careful  state 
ment  of  an  able  anti-supernaturalist,  "to  unfold  and 
perfect  himself,  as  far  as  possible,  in  body  and  spirit; 
that  is  the  purpose,  the  end,  the  scope  and  final  cause  of 
individual  life  on  earth."  "  The  chief  end  of  man,"  says 
another  religious  philosophy,  "is  to  glorify  God  and 
keep  his  commandments." 

Under  the  legitimate  and  logical  ultimate  results  of  a 
theology  of  self-development,  worship  would  be  impos 
sible  ;  though  it  may  survive  in  its  modified  and  mixed 
degrees,  just  as  virtue  survives  in  Antinomianism. 

Or  if  some  tender  feeling  remains,  asking  a  God  to 
worship,  still  its  worship  cannot  be  to  the  personal,  ob 
jective  God,  manifest  in  Christ.  Nor  can  it  amount  to 
anything  more  than  a  pious  thrift,  adoring  God  for  the 
sake  of  a  profitable  reaction  on  our  own  interest,  subsi 
dizing  Heaven  into  an  instrument  for  private  elevation. 


SPIRITUAL    HEIRSHIP.  339 

The  malady  that  ails  the  virtue  of  our  people  is,  that 
it  seeks  to  multiply  noble  means,  misconceiving  the 
means  for  the  end.  Not  sunk  to  sottish  Mammonism,  it 
yet  thinks  to  get  signally  through  life,  and  comfortably 
out  of  it,  with  no  direct  recognition,  confession,  worship, 
of  a  personal  God,  —  Witness,  Judge,  Searcher  of  Hearts, 
Hearer  of  Prayer.  It  constructs,  with  or  without  philoso 
phy,  some  specious  system  of  abstract  principles,  max 
ims  of  prudential  morality,  rules  of  self-preservation,  and, 
fancying  it  will  stand  all  shocks,  and  meet  all  tests,  bows 
itself  in  the  house  of  Rimmon.  But  let  rain  and  wind 
and  flood  beat  upon  it,  —  some  fiercer  onset  of  temper, 
—  some  secret  occasion  for  a  safer  fraud  in  business,  — 
some  cooler  infliction  of  bad  faith  in  a  debtor,  —  some 
bitterer  buffeting  of  political  scorn,  —  and  it  slides  from 
its  sandy  foundation. 

And  if  errors  so  disastrous  creep  in  among  the  less 
besotted  moods  of  men,  because  no  "  worship  of  the 
Father  "  forestalls  them,  what  shall  be  in  the  lower  de 
basements  of  selfishness  and  sensuality,  —  when  foul 
appetites  put  God's  descending  angels  to  flight,  —  when 
the  scramble  for  money,  for  social  standing,  for  pioneer 
ing  in  fashion,  stifles  even  the  natural  aspiration,  and 
Belial  drugs  the  conscience,  only  to  kill  it  more  securely 
in  the  dark  ?  What  shall  hinder,  when  society  comes  to 
be  an  abandoned  Ephraim,  "  let  alone  "  for  his  idols, 
playing  on  to  gain  the  world  at  every  hazard,  that  he 
shall  lay  at  last  his  very  immortality  down,  a  burnt  sacri 
fice,  on  its  pagan  altar  ? 

Brethren,  there  must  be  prayer  to  hallow  labor.  There 
must  be  faith  to  consecrate  enterprise.  There  must  be 
holiness  to  sanctify  business.  There  must  be  a  cordial 
"  Thy  will  be  done,"  uttered  to  a  personal  God,  to  inter- 


340  SPIRITUAL    HEIRSHIP. 

pret  suffering.  The  most  inward  desires,  the  purest 
affections,  the  loftiest  aspirings,  that  stir  our  blood,  —  all 
that  is  tender  in  us  and  all  that  is  strong,  all  that  is  sa 
cred  and  all  that  is  enduring,  —  pain  and  loss,  love  and 
death,  repentance  and  fear,  —  as  each  in  turn  through 
all  this  solemn  discipline  of  life  has  its  hour  of  trial  or  of 
triumph,  —  cry  out  for  the  living  God,  and  bid  us  wor 
ship  the  Father  in  spirit. 

Without  a  living  worship  of  the  living  God,  not  only 
will  these  mortal  multitudes  be  satisfied  with  nothing, 
and  repose  in  nothing,  but  they  will  at  last  believe  in 
nothing.  The  age  of  stark  denial  will  return,  on  a  wider 
theatre  than  ever,  with  the  added  armament  of  all  the 
science  and  skill  of  the  new  era.  And  we  shall  see,  — 
what  some  close  observers  think  they  begin  to  see  por 
tents  of,  in  some  quarters,  already,  —  while  much  that  is 
excellent  and  moral  and  just  remains,  devotion,  devotion 
herself,  —  that  single  and  unmistakable  and  untrans- 
mutable  thing,  —  driven  first  from  the  bosom  to  the 
church,  and  then  from  the  church  into  the  fields,  and 
there  evaporated  into  something  so  like  earthly  air,  as 
not  to  be  inconsistent  with  profanity,  nor  preventive  al 
ways  of  infamy.  This  is  the  atheism  —  sometimes 
taken  for  the  Gospel  —  of  to-day. 

The  materialistic  views  must  probably  be  tried,  both 
by  the  mind  and  the  heart  of  Christendom ;  but  unless 
human  nature  is  reconstructed  from  what  it  was  when 
the  old  saints  lived,  or  when  the  old  infidels  died,  they 
will  be  found  wanting  by  both.  The  favorite  result  they 
propose  is  social  liberation  and  progress.  And  so  long 
as  the  traditional  influence  of  supernaturalism  should 
linger  about  their  new  economy,  they  would  doubtless 
see  fruits  of  their  reformatory  attempts.  But  the  second 


SPIRITUAL    HEIRSHIP.  341 

generation,  under  their  culture,  would  miss,  and  the  third 
would  quite  forget,  that  ennobling  sentiment  of  rever 
ence,  which  is  both  the  grace  and  the  dignity  of  a  lofty 
civilization. 

There  is  a  stage  in  the  history  of  most  communities, 
as  there  is  in  the  lives  of  most  persons,  when  they  try 
the  experiment  of  manufacturing  a  deity  of  their  own. 
Sometimes  the  conceit  takes  the  form  of  sordid  world- 
liness,  and  sometimes  of  philosophical  self-sufficiency. 
The  one  is  as  unsanctified  as  the  other.  I  am  as  far 
from  the  kingdom  of  Heaven  when  I  mistake  the  divini 
ties  of  thought  for  the  mind  of  God,  as  when  I  accept 
factories  for  missions,  commerce  for  a  church,  and  a 
luxurious  equipage  for  heaven.  Men  are  no  more  docile 
to  Gospel  truth  when  they  have  exchanged  their  New 
Testaments  for  Cobbett  and  Combe,  than  when  they 
have  sold  their  simplicity  for  dividends  ;  and  it  is  as  dis 
couraging  to  a  spiritual  man  to  see  his  friends  going  to 
the  sanctuary  having  heads  drunken  with  the  pride  of 
philosophy,  as  shoulders  stooping  under  bales  of  mer 
chandise.  Regeneration  is  the  casting  away  of  both 
these  soulless  idolatries,  to  u  worship  God  in  the  spirit." 

II.  "  And  rejoice  in  Christ  Jesus."  Coming  next 
within  the  visible  limits  of  the  Church,  all  questions  cen 
tralize  more  and  more  in  the  vital  one  concerning  the 
office  of  Christ ;  whether  he  came  as  a  great  Master  of 
the  spiritual  culture  already  discussed,  a  Teacher  and  an 
Example,  —  or,  superadded  to  this,  as  the  incarnation  of 
God. 

Not  dishonoring  the  importance  of  great  problems  in 
church  polity,  in  ecclesiastical  fellowship,  in  the  practical 
relations  of  Christianity  to  society,  this  transcends,  or 
rather  anticipates,  them  all. 

29* 


342  SPIRITUAL    HEIRSHIP. 

About  the  principles  of  righteousness,  the  thought  of 
the  world  is  agreed.  That  goodness  is  good,  and  love 
is  better  than  hatred,  and  purity  and  charity  are  blessed, 
is  speculatively  settled ;  and  it  only  remains  for  the 
Church,  in  her  practical  dealing  with  men,  to  force  home 
upon  the  heart  truths  that  can  never  again  be  brought 
under  controversy.  But  back  of  these  lies  an  issue 
where  philosophy  and  faith  still  claim  to  be  heard  in 
argument.  Whether  the  Church  itself  is  a  human  school 
or  a  heavenly  ;  whether  Christ's  ministry  is  summed  up 
in  his  representing  a  perfect  humanity r,  or  whether  he 
shows  us  the  Father,  and  brings  from  heaven  a  new  ele 
ment  to  plant  in  the  affairs  of  the  world,  —  so  that  his 
Gospel  is  special  as  well  as  absolute,  and  offers  what 
moves  upon  men  with  a  power  wholly  peculiar  to  itself, 
as  not  only  originated,  but  embodied  beyond  the  sphere 
of  nature,  —  and  so  whether  influences  centre  in  his  per 
son  and  his  death,  quite  different  in  kind  from  any  other 
known  to  us  ;  —  this  is  a  question  that  is  yet  to  try 
the  mind  of  Christendom  with  a  stress  of  unparalleled 
intensity.  It  will  need  prayers  for  patience,  as  well  as 
for  wisdom. 

Unless  the  Apostolic  language  transgresses,  not  only 
every  rule  of  literal  construction,  but  all  parallels  in  the 
latitude  of  metaphor,  it  declares  Jesus  to  be  a  Redeemer 
in  some  sense  that  no  notion  of  instruction,  or  of  exem 
plary  character,  satisfies.  If  the  terms  of  the  New  Tes 
tament  mean  only  that,  they  imply  a  nomenclature  so 
anomalous  that  any  expectation  of  positive  knowledge 
from  them  is  unreasonable.  And,  judging  by  its  work 
ing  on  the  necessities  of  experience,  the  theory  is  as 
inadequate  to  the  permanent  wants  of  the  soul  as  to  the 
Biblical  statements.  When  naturalism,  weary  of  its 


SPIRITUAL    HEIRSHIP.  343 

long  ramble  through  the  sciences,  and  neology,  faint  with 
stumbling  on  dark  mountains,  and  poetic  self-reliance, 
homesick  with  its  comfortless  solitude,  shall  come  kneel 
ing,  to  lean  again  with  John  on  the  bosom  of  Jesus,  it 
will  be  an  hour  of  more  majestic  triumph  than  when  ah1 
royalties  shall  cast  their  crowns  at  his  feet. 

In  two  ways  we  may  rob  ourselves  of  the  plenitude  of 
Christ's  redemptive  power. 

First,  by  severing  our  internal  life,  in  its  daily  changes, 
from  a  familiar  converse  with  his  person.  Coupled  with 
a  formal  recognition  of  Christ's  historical  reality,  there  is 
a  frigid  distance  kept  up  between  his  Church  and  his 
personality.  A  proposition  that  the  headship  of  this 
mighty  system,  reaching  through  ages,  revolutionizing 
kingdoms,  and  itself  a  sovereign  surviving  revolutions,  is 
all  vested  in  a  Judaean  peasant,  whose  personal  relations 
to  it  ceased  before  he  was  thirty-five  years  old,  —  is  thus 
made  to  cut  off  the  friendly  arteries  by  which  the  life 
should  stream  from  the  heart  into  the  members.  Faith 
petitions,  on  the  other  hand,  that  it  may  have  leave  to 
sit  at  the  Saviour's  feet,  now ;  and,  with  a  clearer  trust 
than  hers  who  sat  there  at  Bethany,  to  say,  not,  "  Lord, 
if  thou  hadst  been  here,  my  brother  had  not  died,"  but, 
"  Lo,  thou  art  with  us  always."  Humanity  will  realize 
its  complete  proportions  only  by  conscious  membership 
with  a  Head  who  fills  all  the  chambers  in  his  Church  with 
the  glory  of  his  presence,  and  all  its  veins  with  his  blood, 
and  all  its  body  with  his  breath,  to-day.  What  less  can 
these  strong  sayings  signify?  —  "He  that  hath  the  Son 
hath  life  "  ;  u  Except  ye  eat  the  flesh  of  the  Son  of  Man, 
and  drink  his  blood,  ye  have  no  life  in  you " ;  "  Your 
life  is  hid  with  Christ  in  God " ;  "  God  forbid  that  I 
should  glory,  save  in  the  cross  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ." 


344  SPIRITUAL    HEIRSHIP. 

It  is  no  unusual  spectacle,  I  think,  to  see  young  per 
sons  among  us  —  for  these  sore  conflicts  of  aspiration 
with  attainment  are  always  most  tragical  and  affecting 
in  the  young  —  yearning  for  some  effectual  doctrine  of 
reconciliation,  as  the  desert  implores  the  sky  for  rain  ; 
and  probing,  with  pain  unspeakable,  into  their  own 
diseased  spirits,  —  intellectually  analyzing  their  restless 
state,  counting  their  prayers,  chiding  their  sluggishness, 

—  looking  in  distress  from  their  imperfect  lives  to  the 
perfect  standard,   and  back  from  the  standard  to  their 
short-comings.    They  wonder  religion  is  made  so  stern' a 
mistress ;  they  ask,  almost  in  despair,  "  Is  there  no  rest 
to  the  heart  from  this  endless  strife  ?  "     You  tell  them 
they  must  outgrow  the  imperfection,  add  virtue  to  virtue, 
toil  away  at  the  wheel,  and  when  they  are  pure  enough, 
they  will  be  happy.      But,   O   short-sighted   counsellor, 
mocking  their  grief!  do  you  not  see  that  the  very  want 
they  are  wrestling  and  gasping  under,  is  a  want  of  peace 
before  they  are  perfect,  —  on  the  way,  and  under  the  sun 
and  dust  of  the  struggle  ?     And  is  it  not  possible  that 
that  is  what  the  Gospel  of  forgiveness  and  redemption 
brings  them  ? 

Reconciliation  they  want ;  and  the  moment  they  for 
get  what  they  are  and  are  not,  or  have  and  have  not,  to 
cast  their  burden  on  a  Saviour,  believing  with  the  heart 
that  by  that  act  alone  they  are  already  justified  and  free, 
then  they  are  taken  up  out  of  themselves  and  their  heart 
aches  into  heavenly  harmony  with  God,  and  know  the 
joy  of  adoption.  There  are  states  of  the  soul,  when, 
after  his  long  perplexities  and  morbid  introspections, 
instead  of  dwelling  with  ascetic  self-maceration  on  his  ex 
perience,  the  disciple's  first  need  is  to  forgef  it  altogether, 

—  to  let  the  thoughts,  jaded  with  this  eternal  chafing 


SPIRITUAL    HEIRSHIP.  345 

in  the  prison-house  of  consciousness,  spring  away  into 
healthful  liberty,  —  from  deploring  what  self  has  left  un 
done,  to  centre  a  grateful  praise  on  what  Christ  has 
done.  Faith  bids  these  groaning  hearts  not  to  toil  for 
ever  to  loose  the  knot,  by  the  intellect,  in  the  dungeon  ; 
but,  throwing  the  tangled  problem  of  good  and  evil 
down,  to  swing  the  door  wide  open,  and  let  the  light  of 
the  Father's  face  shine  down  into  the  breast.  For,  as  a 
searching  writer  has  said,  "  After  we  are  in  peace  and 
power,  self-analysis  is  instructive,  humbling,  and  bra 
cing  ;  but  while  we  are  cold  and  dead,  it  is  a  poisonous 
thing,  like  a  draft  of  quinine  while  the  ague  fit  is  on." 

Others  there  are,  who  try  to  come  near  to  Christ  by 
studying,  intellectually  again,  with  busier  industry,  the 
incidents  of  his  life,  as  if  bare  erudition,  even  in  the 
writing  of  Evangelists,  could  tranquillize  remorse  ;  an 
other,  by  integrity,  —  and  he  exhibits  an  uprightness  mag 
nanimous  enough  to  shame  Aristides,  —  but  yet  he  does 
not  feel  the  breath  of  his  Master ;  another,  by  philan 
thropy,  ardent  enough  to  outburn  Howard's  or  Sarah 
Martin's,  but  not  constant  with  the  constancy  of  Him 
who,  having  loved  his  own,  loved  them  unto  the  end. 

Now,  under  the  fatigues  of  this  mortal  struggle,  the 
flesh  lusting  against  the  spirit,  we  want  an  instant  re 
lief,  as  well  as  a  future  rest,  —  a  Christ  who  can  say  to 
our  affections,  "  Lo !  I  am  with  you  even  before  the  end 
of  the  world  "  ;  while  he  also  says  to  our  hope,  "  I  am 
the  resurrection."  We  need  the  presence,  as  well  as  the 
promise.  We  want  to  know  that  Christ  has  overcome 
the  world,  and  that  we  are,  this  hour,  joint  heirs  with 
him  in  the  conquered  heritage. 

And  thus  opens  the  second  deviation  from  a  right 
Christology,  in  an  attempt  at  self-salvation. 


346  SPIRITUAL    HEIRSHIP. 

For  the  more  earnestly  a  man  asks  himself  whether 
his  life  is  worthy  of  God's  acceptance,  the  more  utterly 
hopeless  of  acceptance,  on  the  score  of  worthiness,  he 
must  become.  The  only  standard  given  him,  out  of  the 
cross,  by  which  to  measure  himself,  is  the  perfect  one, 
and  contains  no  provision  for  short-comings.  Held  un 
der  it  by  requirements  he  never  can  fulfil,  —  subject  to  a 
law  he  never  can  keep,  —  conscious  that  self  creeps  into 
his  best  aims,  and  sin  defiles  his  purest  services,  —  and 
yet  nowhere  told  that  he  may  partly  violate  the  com 
mandment,  —  where  does  he  stand  ?  On  the  platform 
of  the  Pharisee.  His  piety  is  hard,  barren,  Jewish.  He 
cannot  ask  to  be  saved,  till  he  has  hardihood  enough  to 
claim  salvation  for  his  merits.  When  shall  we  learn  that 
we  are  never  to  be  saved  by  our  own  deeds,  nor  in  our 
own  way,  but  by  the  heart  full  of  faith  in  what  our  Lord 
has  done,  —  in  God's  way,  by  his  Christ  ?  To  attempt 
a  retreat  from  this  central  Gospel  hope  to  the  Jew's  sal 
vation  in  payment  for  good  works,  is  as  futile  as  Julian's 
was,  when  he  sought  to  rebuild  the  Hebrew  temple  at 
Jerusalem,  to  falsify  the  prophecy  of  the  Son  of  Man. 

We  may  baptize  the  interesting  displays  of  an  inter 
mittent  virtue  with  a  Christian  name,  bilt  they  may  yet 
contain  no  scintilla  of  Christ's  distinctive  light.  They 
may  leave  the  life  all  untouched  by  its  unrivalled  aurora, 
however  resplendent  their  own  beauty.  Their  sterile 
justice  is  not  the  justice  that  treats  men  honestly  because 
they  are  God's  children,  —  which  was  the  law  of  Christ's 
great  honesty.  Their  kindness  is  not  redolent  of  the 
beatitudes.  Their  moderation  is  not  guarded  by  those 
mighty  warders,  reverence  for  God  and  the  Saviour's 
love.  Their  liberty  is  not  that  "  where  the  Spirit  of  the 
Lord  is."  Nor  is  their  wonder  devout  with  the  fervor  of 
Olivet  and  Gethsemane. 


SPIRITUAL    HEIRSHIP.  347 

It  is  common  with  some  writers  to  abandon  the  ground 
of  salvation  by  merits,  rhetorically,  even  admitting  its 
opposite,  by  a  sort  of  parenetic  license,  for  spiritual  util 
ity  ;  but  still  to  reserve  it  as  defensible  by  philosophy. 
Now  it  is  precisely  the  philosophical  element  in  religion 
that  most  emphatically  rejects  the  idea  of  a  spiritual  sal 
vation  by  merit ;  because,  the  moment  the  whole  aim 
and  energy  are  concentrated  on  self,  that  moment  the 
noblest  grace  of  piety  is  gone.  A  profound  science  of 
human  nature  discovers  nothing  more  clearly  than  that 
faith  in  objective  Help  is  a  principle  of  action  overmas 
tering  all  aims  that  conclude  in  personal  results,  and  more 
in  harmony  with  all  the  higher  laws  of  the  soul.  When 
Paul  simply  said,  "  Believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
and  thou  shalt  be  saved,"  he  struck  a  deeper  vein  in 
man's  inward  economy  than  all  the  stirring  champions 
of  education.  He  announced  a  law  of  spiritual  growth, 
eternal,  practical,  and  by  some  of  its  relations  omnipres 
ent  to  our  experience*  Till  we  adjust  our  beliefs  to  it, 
and  conform  our  lives  as  well,  we  are  not  clear-sighted, 
nor  strong-handed,  nor  is  our  tent  pitched  within  the 
encampments  of  the  Christian  "  circumcision." 

When  one  of  our  preachers  puts  it  to  himself,  whether 
a  morbid,  excessive  religiousness  is  one  of  the  chief  ene 
mies  to  the  salvation  of  his  people,  he  is  struck  at  find 
ing  how  much  of  the  preaching  that  reaches  the  ears  of 
one  denomination  is  only  an  oblique  rebound  from  the 
short-comings  of  another,  and  so,  where  it  lights,  less 
nourishing  than  the  east  wind.  Enthusiasm  is  not  our 
peril.  We  want  righteousness  much,  but  faith  first,  the 
root,  the  quickener,  the  animus  and  inspiration  of  the 
other. 

We  may  call  these   humiliating  doctrines ;  but  are 


348  SPIRITUAL    HEIRSHIP. 

they  half  so  humiliating  as  those  ever-present  facts  in  life, 
—  sorrow  and  shame  ?  Does  not  the  law  run  through 
all  our  being,  that  we  must  find  peace  by  sacrifice, —  must 
go  to  rest  through  struggle  ?  Every  field  of  heroic  strife  ; 
martyrs'  stakes  and  scaffolds ;  fastings  and  pilgrimages ; 
blood  running  in  rivers ;  the  songs  of  dying  patriots ; 
strains  like  those  that  rung  from  Madame  Roland's  dun 
geon  the  night  before  her  execution  ;  the  Puritans'  pri 
vations  ;  prophets  wet  with  dews,  or  walking  through  fur 
naces  of  fire ;  —  all  stand- as  grand  historic  monuments  of 
the  law,  No  pain,  no  progress.  Yet  what  we  allow  to 
the  earthly  triumphs  of  liberty  or  country,  we  grudge  for 
the  victory  of  eternal  life. 

Christ  humiliates  us  by  showing  us  our  unworthiness, 
that  he  may  exalt  us  in  due  time,  and  glorify  us  with 
seats  at  his  right  hand.  He  bends  us  in  something  of 
David's  prostration,  that  we  may  rise  on  the  wings  of 
Isaiah's  rapture.  Have  we  not  served  idols  ?  And  so 
we  must  be  mourning  captives  in  Babylon,  hanging 
our  harps  on  weeping  willows,  before  we  can  return  with 
joy.  The  cross  is  an  offence ;  we  must  be  content  to 
come  after  a  Man  of  sorrows,  —  him  whose  visage  was 
marred  more  than  the  countenance  of  any  man,  —  must 
take  that  cross  of  offence  up,  before  he  will  come  with 
his  Father  to  take  up  his  abode  in  our  hearts. 

In  the  striking  paradox  of  one  of  the  mightiest  build 
ers  of  empire  the  world  ever  bore,  "  There  is  no  force  so 
overwhelming,  as  that  whose  strength  lies  in  its  very 
weakness."  And  so  the  most  wilful  spirit,  arriving  at  its 
new  birth,  feels  that  there  is  no  conquest  so  absolute  as 
when  all  the  heart  submits,  and  no  self-possession  so  sure 
as  when  self  is  utterly  renounced. 

In  the  very  midst  of  the  deep  waters  of  that  wondrous 


SPIRITUAL    HEIRSHIP.  349 

passage,  whereby  discipline  proves  and  purifies  the  dis 
ciple,  it  must  have  been  an  obdurate  spirit  that  was  not 
ready  sometimes  to  cry,  "  O  blessed  violence  of  Love, 
that  quells,  even  with  penitential  grief,  this  wild  revolt  of 
passions  !  — •  O  merciful  Cross,  that  cools  this  cruel  fever 
of  ambition! — O  healing  Hand,  that  doubles  my  agony 
for  an  hour,  that  I  might  have  heavenly  health  for  ever !  " 

Imagine  even  our  noblest  achievements,  the  churches, 
and  benevolent  brotherhoods,  and  missionary  societies, 
assembled  to  lift  an  anthem  of  united  praise ;  the  refrain 
of  their  thanksgiving  must  ever  be,  "  Not  unto  us.  not 
unto  us,  O  Lord,  but  unto  thy  name,  be  the  glory.'-' 

We  want  a  life  hid  with  Christ  in  God.  And  herein 
the  religion  revealed  in  Christ  meets  us.  Holding  up  to 
our  aspirations  an  object  beyond  ourselves,  it  makes  faith 
in  Him  a  surer  test  of  acceptance  than  any  outward 
works,  and  stimulates  our  affections  by  showing  us  a 
Mediator.  Something  without  us  to  lay  hold  of;  an  arm 
from  above  to  lean  upon ;  a  Saviour  to  go  to,  and  walk 
by ;  a  Father  to  trust  in  and  forget  our  little  selves  in 
glorifying;  —  this  is  the  " circumcision,"  both  "worship 
ping  the  Father  in  spirit,"  and  "rejoicing  in  Christ  Je 
sus." 

III.  "  No  confidence  in  the  flesh."  At  this  point  the 
text's  definition  of  "the  circumcision"  changes  from  a 
positive  form  to  a  negative.  I  shall  follow  this  variation ; 
adverting  to  some  of  the  more  comprehensive  and  more 
instant  obstacles  both  to  the  spiritual  reviving  of  the 
Church  and  to  the  unity  which  can  never  come  without 
its  reviving. 

Christendom  shows  a  general  expectancy  of  some  fresh 
dispensation  of  the  Spirit.  I  ask  you  to  glance,  in  what 
remains,  at  those  chief  stumbling-blocks  which  Christen- 
so 


350  SPIRITUAL    HEIRSHIP. 

dom  itself —  and  our  portion  of  it  along  with  the  rest  — 
is  most  tempted  to  cast  in  the  way  of  such  an  outpouring 
of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  such  a  gathering  of  the  Christian 
clans ;  — unteachableness  in  the  doctrine  of  sin  ;  intellect 
ual  dogmatism,  whether  as  abstract  from  images  of  life 
or  imperious  over  the  emotions  ;  a  confounding  of  virtue 
with  religion ;  ceremonialism ;  a  provincial  species  of 
ecclesiasticism ;  and  denominational  intolerance. 

Is  it  true,  or  is  it  not,  that  in  most  of  our  congregations 
family  prayer  steadily  declines  ?  Is  it  true,  that  the  very 
naming  of  such  a  test  of  spiritual  security  shocks  some 
liberal  judgments  ?  Is  it  true,  that,  of  the  young  persons 
nurtured  in  our  Sunday  schools,  so  few  distinctly  recog 
nize  in  themselves  a  Christian  aim,  or  join  the  visible 
Christian  body,  —  that  in  many  cases  the  Church  is  a 
lean  minority  of  the  congregation,  composed  chiefly  of 
females  and  aged  men,  drawn  to  it  by  a  rare  tempera 
ment,  or  driven  in  by  some  stress  of  sorrow  ?  Is  it  true, 
that  even  strong  spiritual  impressions  and  impulses  fail 
constantly  to  be  consolidated  into  a  consistent  character, 
for  want  of  a  deep  and  definite  faith  to  crystallize  upon 
and  abide  by  ?  Is  it  quite  general,  that  a  superior  right 
eousness  of  life  atones  for  the  latitude  of  speculation,  — 
and  is  it  not  true,  that  conventionalism  and  formality 
come  into  our  assemblies,  in  an  average  proportion,  as 
the  wealthy  and  fashionable  classes  come,  and  that,  while 
we  propose  a  spiritual  walk,  through  some  excess  of  hos 
pitality  worldliness  clings  tenaciously  to  our  skirts  ? 

One  almost  shudders  to  consider  how  terrible  an  open 
ing  might  be  made  into  the  religion  of  the  times,  if  its 
nominal  friends  were  to  make  candid  answer  to  this 
question :  Suppose  a  permanent  personal  immunity  from 
pain  could  be  guaranteed  without  religion,  how  many  of 


SPIRITUAL    HEIRSHIP.  351 

them  would  feel  it  rather  a  relief  to  be  rid  of  religion  al 
together  ? 

I  have  laid  it  down  as  the  distinctive  office  of  Christ 
in  the  world,  and  in  the  individual  heart,  to  introduce  a 
new  element  of  religious  life,  and  to  furnish  a  special  re 
lief  from  sin.  The  whole  appeal,  then,  of  his  Gospel  is 
to  the  felt  need  of  this  heart.  The  old  system  is  right 
in  laying  so  urgent  a  stress  on  conviction  of  sin.  The 
grand  significance  of  the  Gospel  is  help.  The  measure 
of  man's  eagerness  to  receive  help,  —  is  it  not  his  feeling 
of  helplessness  ?  It  is  no  secret,  probably,  that  in  most 
of  the  persons  we  meet  in  the  streets,  and  even  in  our 
meeting-houses,  it  would  be  difficult  to  find  any  such 
thing  as  a  vital  consciousness  of  sin,  at  all. 

Go  to  a  successful  worldling,  comfortably  cushioned 
among  his  flourishing  fortunes,  his  selfish  habits,  and  his 
fashionable  family,  and  tell  him  of  his  sin.  You  speak 
of  a  difficulty,  a  discontent,  an  empty  heart.  What  dif 
ficulty,  what  discontent,  what  emptiness  ?  Have  not  his 
notes  good  securities  ?  Did  he  not  sleep  well  last  night  ? 
Will  not  the  choice  selections  of  the  market  smoke  upon 
his  table  to-morrow  ?  Sin  ?  He  has  found  a  way  of 
disposing  of  all  that  annoyance  as  conveniently  as  of 
some  doubtful  mortgage.  Your  praying  publican  was  a 
poor  fanatic,  and  his  penitence  a  piece  of  wild  extrava 
gance,  putting  the  case  far  worse  than  it  really  was. 
This  abasing  doctrine  of  conviction  and  confession,  for 
a  gentleman,  a  man  of  quality,  a  master  of  half  a  million 
of  money,  —  it  is  an  impertinence. 

A  specious  answer,  I  know,  may  be  made,  —  that  an 
active  life,  busy  with  profitable  work,  is  doing  something 
better  than  deploring  its  short-comings.  But  answer, 
again,  how  profitable,  or  permanent,  that  work  is,  which 


352  SPIRITUAL    HEIRSHIP. 

does  not  begin  and  end  in  a  sense  of  submission  to  God, 
—  or  how  noble  work  can  be,  not  dignified  by  the  spirit 
ual  meditation  that  must  so  often  terminate  in  a  confes 
sion  of  utter  unworthiness.  Clarkson's  brilliant  retort,  to 
the  inquiry  about  his  soul,  that  he  had  no  time  so  much 
as  to  consider  whether  he  had  a  soul,  has  been  much 
worn  by  quotation,  and  never  quoted,  as  I  am  aware, 
but  to  be  admired.  The  earnest  witticism  is  justified, 
perhaps,  as  it  leaped  from  Clarkson's  lips ;  but  converted 
from  the  impromptu  extravagance  it  was,  into  the  delib 
erate  maxim  of  conduct  it  was  never  meant  to  be,  it  is 
as  mischievous  as  it  is  shallow.  Modern  Philosophy  has 
followed  in  that  line  a  little ;  and  to  her  loss.  The  un- 
spiritualizing  of  moral  enterprises  comes  of  it;  the  self- 
unchurching  of  noble  reforms  comes  of  it ;  the  dislocation 
of  Christian  symmetry,  the  divorce  of  labor  and  prayer, 
the  orphanage  of  Human  Charity  herself,  comes  of  it. 

Again,  the  understanding  may  plan  and  rear  a  house ; 
but  only  the  heart  can  warm  it  with  sunny  friendships, 
and  twine  the  grace  of  sweet  charities  about  its  door 
posts,  and  dispose  throughout  its  rooms  the  benignant 
charm  that  makes  the  meaning  of  a  home.  And  so  a 
dogmatic  intellect  may  pile  the  structure  of  a  creed ;  but 
it  needs  a  tenderer  confidence  to  domesticate  the  soul  in 
the  temple. 

It  would  seem  as  if  some  rarefying  intellectualism,  by 
insinuating  itself  into  our  modern  religious  speech,  un 
realized  the  objects  of  faith,  and  emasculated  faith  itself. 
A  truly  comprehensive  study  of  God,  and  of  the  real 
conditions  under  which  he  must  be  revealed,  makes  it 
more  than  doubtful  whether  we  have  gained  a  more  ac 
curate,  or  even  a  more  spiritual  conception  of  God,  by 
discarding  what  is  called  the  anthropopathic  imagery  of 


SPIRITUAL    HEIRSHIP.  e353 

the  Old  Testament,  —  representing  God  as  feeling  emo 
tions,  joy,  grief,  pity,  like  ourselves.  The  straining  after 
literal  accuracy  dilutes  the  vigorous  conception.  Our 
God  sometimes  seems  farther  off  than  the  Jewish  Jeho 
vah  was,  and  wrhat  we  gain  to  exactness,  in  our  attempts 
to  eliminate  these  material  configurations  of  Deity,  is 
worse  than  lost  to  trust,  in  the  dissipating  of  the  person 
ality.  So,  by  the  application  of  a  similar  process  to  the 
idea  of  heaven,  representing  heaven  as  nowhere  in  par 
ticular,  we  fail  to  present  it  at  all,  and  hope  is  bereaved 
of  heaven  ;  and  by  diffusing  hell  over  all  of  life  and  the 
world,  we  take  it  in  such  minute  particles  that  it  grows 
familiar  and  tolerable.  When  you  have  made  all  the 
amiable  and  correct  dispositions  to  constitute  and  com 
plete  membership  in  the  Christian  Church,  your  Church 
has  vanished ;  and  the  moment  you  have  persuaded  my 
reason  that  prayer  consists  in  nothing  but  want,  or  aspir 
ing  to  an  ideal,  and  wishing  well  to  my  neighbors,  I  am 
no  longer  of  the  disciples  that  their  Lord  has  taught  how 
to  pray. 

And  in  this,  the  New  Testament  language  suits  itself, 
by  a  perfect  adaptation,  to  the  nature  it  addresses  and 
would  relieve.  No  ideas  charge  their  symbols,  words, 
with  such  subtile  and  hidden  correspondences  as  the  re 
ligious,  the  use  made  of  a  single  theological  term  often 
condensing  the  entire  character  of  a  creed.  It  is  the  spir 
itual  laws  that  fit  and  sanction  the  rhetorical.  A  theolo 
gian  may  refuse  from  his  studied  treatises  the  sacrificial 
phraseology  of  the  Epistles,  as  scornfully  as  a  Lollard 
would  spurn  a  picture  of  the  Virgin ;  but  he  will  take  it 
all  back  into  his  prayers,  as  the  iconoclast,  after  the  hav 
oc  was  over,  lifting  his  eyes  to  the  lofty  arches  of  the 
cathedral,  uncovered  his  head  and  knelt. 

30* 


354  SPIRITUAL    HEIRSHIP. 

For  the  rocks  of  offence  that  men  put  out  of  their 
path,  when  they  walk  forth  in  the  pride  of  controversy, 
they  seldom  stumble  at  in  the  closet.  The  devotee 
leans  his  bosom  on  the  stone  that  the  system-builders 
rejected. 

It  is  a  noble  thing  to  abide  by  a  piety  so  natural,  sin 
cere,  and  true,  that  it  never  spoils  the  rich  terms  of  the 
Bible  by  perverting  them  into  cant.  But  it  is  just  as 
noble- for  a  piety  that  is  natural,  sincere,  and  true,  to  hold 
them  fast,  and  choose  them  for  its  speech,  even  though 
Cant  has  tampered  with  them,  —  ignoring  her  presump 
tion. 

Doubts  about  prayer  are  not  answered  by  argument, 
but  by  showing  the  heart  how  it  needs  its  God.  Prob 
ably  no  man  ever  adopted  prayer  by  finding  a  philo 
sophic  basis  for  it,  but  by  beginning  to  cry,  "  My  God, 
my  God ! "  and  thus,  tempted  on  by  a  single  taste  of 
the  holy  privilege,  the  heart  takes  up  the  cheerful  task 
of  persuasion  for  itself,  and  the  suppliant  thence 
forth  prays,  because  the  restraining  of  prayer  would 
be  the  refusal  of  his  chief  desire.  And  whereas  he 
once  thought  it  brave  to  doubt,  he  now  knows  it  is 
blessed  to  believe. 

At  first,  perhaps,  his  petitions  are  the  broken  entreaties 
of  that  sad  contrition  that  cried :  "  Slay  me,  O  God,  if 
thou  wilt,  but  leave  me  not  sinful  thus.  I  am  miserable ; 
and  cannot  heal  myself.  Put  me  to  shame  ;  I  am  shame 
ful.  Behold,  I  hide  nothing ;  Thou  art  Light,  expose  my 
darkness.  I  will  palliate  nothing;  I  am  worse  than  I 
know ;  show  me  all  that  I  am.  If  I  must  die,  let  me  die 
in  thy  light!"  But  afterwads,  when  mercy  has  re 
assured  him,  he  is  able  to  take  a  more  exultant  tone, 
and  sing :  — 


SPIRITUAL    HEIRSHIP.  355 

/ 

"  'T  is  Love !  't  is  Love !  —  Thou  diedst  for  me ; 

I  hear  thy  whisper  in  my  heart : 
The  morning  breaks  ;  the  shadows  flee  : 
Pure,  universal  Love  thou  art. 

"  My  prayer  hath  power  with  God !  the  grace 

Unspeakable  I  now  receive  : 
In  vain  I  have  not  wept  and  strove  : 
Thy  nature  and  thy  name  is  Love  !  " 

Piety  is  not  always  ready  to  go  before  the  court  of 
reason,  defensible  against  every  rigorous  indictment  of 
consistency.  Like  the  poor  Scotchwoman,  rejected  from 
communion  with  her  Lord  by  her  catechising  priest,  be 
cause  her  answers  stammered,  it  breaks  into  tears  as  it 
goes  disappointed  away,  crying,  "  Though  I  cannot  speak 
for  my  Saviour,  I  could  die  for  him."  "  No  confidence 
in  the  flesh." 

There  can  be  no  serious  difficulty  in  adjusting  the  re 
lations  of  this  new  and  renewing  element  in  character, 
Faith,  to  general  goodness,  piety,  benevolence,  and  in 
tegrity. 

As  the  expression  —  no  more  than  that  —  of  an  origi 
nating  and  creative  faith,  the  moral  decencies  bear  much 
the  same  relation  to  religion  that  manners  bear  to 
morals.  You  will  never  have  the  morals  without  their 
fruit  in  the  manners ;  but  you  will  often  get  the  manners 
quite  out  of  company  with  the  morals.  Byron  said  that 
by  far  the  mildest  manners  he  ever  met  were  those  of  the 
bloodthirsty  and  remorseless  Ali  Pacha,  and  that  the 
most  civil  gentleman  he  had  conversed  with  picked  his 
purse  from  his  pocket.  You  might  as  well  propound 
George  Brummell  and  Lord  Chesterfield  for  standards 
in  pure  ethics,  as  go  about  to  inaugurate  a  Church  of 
God  in  the  world,  by  recommending  dry  rules  of  behav 
ior.  That  is  not  the  New  Testament  method.  Christ 


356  SPIRITUAL    HEIRSHIP. 

poises  the  scales  of  character  implicitly  on  the  heart,  and 
the  first  word  of  his  Apostles  everywhere  is,  "  Believe." 

It  is  because  the  whole  soul  is  not  thus  concentrated 
on  the  love  of  Christ  which  constraineth  men,  putting 
away  all  "  confidence  in  the  flesh,"  that  some  branches 
of  the  Church  so  invert  the  relations  of  the  form  to  the 
substance.  Instead  of  cherishing  the  inward  spirit  which 
vitalizes  every  tabernacle  it  inhabits,  they  insist  on  press 
ing  to  their  bosoms  the  moulds  it  dwelt  in  once,  putting 
antiquarianism  for  righteousness.  Because  the  cistern 
held  the  living  waters  in  ancient  times,  it  must  stand 
shrinking  and  warped  in  the  sun,  an  unsightly  encum 
brance,  after  the  waters  have  sought  other  courses.  The 
mind,  instead  of  ascending  freely  from  the  altar  to  rest  in 
God,  and  be  purified  for  active  effort,  is  led  off  by  scho 
lastic  fancies,  idly  busy  with  the  painted  windows  that 
catch  the  rays  of  earthly  sunlight. 

It  is  because  we  undervalue  the  religious  heart,  and 
attach  an  exclusive  importance  to  religious  opinions,  that 
we  commit  so  many  unprofitable  mistakes  in  our  at 
tempts  to  increase  our  ecclesiastical  bodies,  or  denomina 
tions.  For,  in  answering  the  question,  Who  are  "  the 
circumcision"?  and  bidding  us  put  "no  confidence  in 
the  flesh,"  our  doctrine  decides  inferentially  how  we  are 
to  propagate  our  faith.  It  bids  the  Church  take  up  every 
child  of  her  loins,  born  within  her  house,  before  the  sor 
ceries  of  the  world  have  wrought  their  deadly  spell  upon 
him,  and,  baptizing  him  into  holy  affections,  bear  him 
straight  on  into  full  communion  with  her  Lord.  In 
speaking  to  the  prodigals  that  would  wander,  it  sets  re 
generation  before  tuition.  It  shows  us  that  association, 
organization,  machinery,  are  dead,  till  a  living  piety  burns 
in  the  hearts  of  its  masters.  Bureaus  may  stand  ready, 


SPIRITUAL    HEIRSHIP.  357 

and  boards,  and  officers,  and  even  funds, — though  these 
last,  being  more  dependent  on  zeal,  and  less  attainable  by 
cold  blood,  are  not  so  likely  to  abound ;  but  when  the 
whole  apparatus  waits  complete,  it  is  only  the  system  of 
wheels  within  wheels ;  what  is  still  wanting  is  the  spirit 
of  the  living  creatures  descending  into  them  like  lamps  of 
fire,  lifting  them  up  and  driving  them  on.  Without  this, 
we  shall  only  tax,  and  exhort,  and  mortify  ourselves,  in 
vain,  —  perplexed  that  the  seed-wheat  does  not  grow, 
amazed  at  our  own  impotence,  scarcely  suspecting  that 
the  real  difficulty  is,  that  we  are  sacrificing  all  the  while 
to  our  own  sectarian  net,  or  burning  incense  to  our  de 
nominational  drag,  instead  of  "  worshipping  the  Father, 
and  rejoicing  in  Christ  Jesus."  Do  this,  and  ye  will  no 
longer  need  to  say  to  one  another,  "  Know  the  Lord. 
For  the  Lord  will  create  in  every  dwelling-place  in 
Mount  Zion,  and  upon  her  assemblies,  a  cloud  and 
smoke  by  day,  and  the  shining  of  a  naming  fire  by 
night." 

Under  the  normal  nurture  of  Faith,  the  outward  in 
stitution  and  the  informing  life  will  grow  together ;  so 
that  in  the  Church,  as  in  the  body, 

"  Nature,  crescent,  does  not  grow  alone 
In  thews  and  bulk  ;  but,  as  this  temple  waxes, 
The  inward  service  of  the  mind  and  soul 
Grows  wide  withal." 

Nothing  will  be  done  for  ostentation,  —  for  a  really  de 
vout  man  will  no  more  parade  his  piety  for  exhibition, 
than  he  will  throw  his  heart  into  the  street ;  but  the  ear 
nest  piety  will  spontaneously  fit  to  itself  a  dress  and  de 
monstrative  apparatus  becoming  its  dignity.  The  world 
would  not  be  disgusted  with  imposing  ecclesiastical  ar 
rangements,  mocking  an  empty  house,  but  the  expanding 


358  SPIRITUAL    HEIRSHIP. 

force  will  make  its  way  constitutionally,  pushing  its 
structure  no  faster  than  its  family. 

You  complain  that  the  people  are  concerned  too  much 
with  the  talents  —  or  the  want  of  them  — in  the  minister ; 
and  justly.  But  can  you  abate  that  poor  ambition,  that 
"  confidence  in  the  flesh,"  till  you  have  supplied  a  loftier 
passion  ?  Parishes  that  have  no  God  to  worship  will 
naturally,  out  of  certain  traditional  associations  that  con 
found  the  official  functionary  with  the  religion,  make  an 
idol  of  their  preacher ;  and  it  will  not  be  strange  if,  in 
the  end,  the  incense  so  works  upon  his  manhood,  that  he 
becomes  literally  their  preacher,  and  not  Christ's. 

Or  if  he  should  not  happen  to  be  of  substance  suffi 
cient  to  make  an  idol  of,  the  people  go  mourning  for 
lack  of  what  they  call  religion,  —  the  first  suspicion  some 
societies  have  that  they  are  godless,  arising  when  they 
lack  a  minister  to  stand  as  a  substitute.  Plant  a  diviner 
ground  of  trust ;  plant  a  living  love  for  Christ,  that  Head 
of  the  Church  who  never  fails  any  of  its  branches ;  and 
the  prosperity  of  a  parish  will  no  longer  swell  and  shrink, 
nor  its  zeal  rise  and  fall  from  fever-heat  to  freezing-point, 
by  the  favor  of  its  servants. 

Hence,  too,  finally,  by  this  personal  power  and  life  of 
piety,  in  the  heart,  comes  the  only  hope  of  Catholicity, — 
the  "One  Fold"  predicted  so  long.  Out  of  heirship 
comes  kinsmanship,  and  the  rule  of  the  one  defines  the 
other. 

All  direct  labor  for  a  mere  marrying  of  creeds,  a  blend 
ing  of  sects,  and  mortising  of  platforms,  is  false ;  for  it 
turns  off  the  mind  from  the  ineffable  glory  of  Divine  Love, 
and  from  the  honors  of  sainthood,  to  petty  adjustments 
of  opinion  and  mortal  measurements  by  one  another. 
The  Church  for  the  present  may  have  statement  and 


SPIRITUAL    HEIRSHIP.  359 

counter-statement,  indoctrination  and  recantation,  sys 
tems  and  system-destroyers,  kingdom  against  kingdom, 
—  cries  of,  "  Lo !  he  is  in  the  desert,"  and,  "  Lo !  he  is  in 
the  secret  chambers,"  —  only  because  the  hour  of  unity  is 
not  yet.  Ours  are  analysis,  thesis,  and  antithesis ;  the 
grand  synthesis  is  of  God. 

Any  unity  that  councils  shall  consolidate  will  lack  the 
harmonizing  principle.  Honest  good-will  may  compact 
some  comely  covenant,  but  it  will  prove  too  bounded  for 
the  purposes  of  Providence.  No  preadjusted  mould  can 
coerce  the  elastic  growths  of  that  future  Church  for 
which  no  past  can  legislate  and  even  the  present  can 
only  watch  and  pray.  In  the  freehold  of  the  Christian 
inheritance,  my  friends,  we  do  not  hold  by  adverse  title. 
Let  us  learn  it,  even  before  we  see  ourselves  to  be  exter 
nally  and  formally  one;  and  then  the  visible  unity  shall 
be  ushered  in. 

Meantime,  brethren  of  all  encampments  in  the  Church 
Militant,  —  for  militant  she  still  is  by  destiny  as  against 
the  world,  but  militant,  if  our  hearts  are  right,  she  should 
no  longer  be  as  against  herself,  diverting  toil  from  the 
perishing  harvests  to  fratricidal  strife,  and  beating  sickles 
into  swords,  —  what  do  we  ?  On  the  margin  of  that 
land  of  promise  which  eighteen  centuries  of  providential 
history  have  been  shaping  for  our  heritage,  we  fall  to  hurl 
ing  poisoned  javelins  into  our  allies'  enclosures.  The 
strength  that  helpless  humanity  yearns  to  feel  lifting  up 
its  wounded  limbs,  we  waste  in  this  fiendish  folly. 

A  truce  !  a  truce  of  God !  Slaves,  sensualists,  atheists, 
wait  for  redemption.  Reluctant  want,  staggering  under 
its  unrighteous  load, — rich  idleness,  sick  with  its  slow 
consumption,  —  filth  grovelling  and  generosity  despair 
ing,  —  woman,  wronged  and  bewildered,  straining  her 


360  SPIRITUAL    HEIRSHIP. 

patient  ear  to  catch  her  Redeemer's  consolation,  —  and 
we,  the  strong,  the  free,  the  wielders  of  opportunities,  the 
openers  and  closers  of  gates,  —  we,  that  believing  moth 
ers  have  sung  songs  of  Bethlehem  to  in  our  infancy,  — 
we,  that  schools  and  universities  have  fostered  in  their 
bosoms,  only  that  they  might  hand  us  on,  in  greater 
plenitude  of  grace,  to  the  service  of  Christ  and  his 
Church,  —  we  are  tossing  our  petulant  gauntlets  from 
tent  to  tent ;  not  watchmen  on  the  walls  of  Zion,  yearn 
ing  to  see  eye  to  eye,  but  eaves-droppers  at  our  neigh 
bors'  doors,  eager  to  hear  the  jarring  controversies  of  the 
sects,  rather  than  the  hymns  of  seraphs ! 

"  Worshipping  the  Father  in  spirit ;  rejoicing  in  Christ 
Jesus;  having  no  confidence  in  the  flesh," — we  are  all 
"  the  circumcision." 

If  you  would  find  a  church  that  is  true,  and  alive  from 
on  high,  you  must  seek  one  whose  members  serve  each 
other  by  first  serving  Christ,  whose  law  and  motive  and 
bond  of  concord  are  in  their  looking  up  into  the  same 
divine  countenance,  listening  to  the  same  heavenly  voice, 
leaning  together  on  the  breast  of  the  same  Son  of  God. 

The  unity  begotten  among  sects  by  this  looking  to 
one  undivided  Lord  will  be  spiritual,  not  mechanical. 
It  will  come,  not  by  any  sly  foisting  in  among  the  sects 
of  each  other's  phraseology,  or  any  imitation  of  each 
other's  measures,  —  not  by  cunning  nor  concealment;  but 
by  a  candor  that  is  transparent  precisely  because  it  is 
above  partisanship  and  selfishness,  —  by  a  speech  whose 
mightiest  power  lies  in  its  sincerity,  its  unction,  its  evan 
gelic  necessity ;  not,  in  short,  by  the  will  of  man  at  all, 
but  by  so  making  the  Saviour  of  our  souls  the  centre, 
substance,  and  inspiration  of  the  doctrine,  that  love  for 
him  sends  every  smaller  passion  out,  and  there  is  one 
ness  only  because  there  is  One. 


SPIRITUAL    HEIRSHIP.  361 

And  so  it  has  appeared  how,  in  order  to  heirship  in 
the  fold,  there  is  needed  a  doctrine  of  God,  a  doctrine  of 
Christ,  and  a  doctrine  of  the  Spirit ;  of  worship,  of  re 
demption,  of  the  Church;  of  piety,  of  discipleship,  of 
fraternity  in  the  spiritual  house. 

Over  against  these  pillars  of  safety  stand  the  beset 
ting  spiritual  perils  of  the  time,  —  all  represented  at  last 
in  that  anti- Christian  trinity,  self- worship,  self-deliver 
ance,  self-love. 

Let  us  be  steadfast  on  the  Corner-stone,  and  we  will 
not  suffer  solicitude  for  our  heritage.  We  shall  realize 
the  infinite  endearment  of  that  condescending  promise, 
"  Fear  not,  little  flock ;  it  is  your  Father's  good  pleasure 
to  give  you  the  kingdom."  We  shall  hold  in  our  veins 
the  blood  of  Israel.  The  conditions  are  unencumbered, 
and  the  title  will  belong  as  much  to  us  as  to  the  oldest 
hierarchy  in  the  world. 

"  For  he  is  not  a  Jew  that  is  one  outwardly ;  neither 
is  that  circumcision  which  is  outward  in  the  flesh ;  but 
he  is  a  Jew  that  is  one  inwardly ;  and  circumcision  is  of 
the  heart,  in  the  spirit,  and  not  in  the  letter;  whose 
praise  is  not  of  men,  but  of  God.  And  we  are  the  cir 
cumcision,  which  worship  the  Father  in  spirit,  and 
rejoice  in  Christ  Jesus,  and  have  no  confidence  in  the 
flesh." 


31 


SERMON      XXIII. 

THE  EELIGION  THAT  IS  NATUKAL.* 

TO   BE   SPIRITUALLY-MINDED    IS    LIFE    AND    PEACE.  —  Kom.  viii.   6. 

THE  association  called  the  "  BOSTON  YOUNG  MEN'S 
CHRISTIAN  UNION"  has  already  explained  itself  to  the 
public.  The  causes  that  created  it  seem  to  have  been 
both  positive  and  negative.  It  was  felt  by  the  persons 
whose  desires  originated  and  whose  thoughts  shaped  it, 
that  there  were  young  men  enough  in  this  city,  seeking 
to  guide  their  lives  by  Christian  principles,  to  constitute 
an  organized  body,  with  the  functions  and  furniture  for 
united  action  in  many  ways.  On  the  other  hand,  it  was 
felt,  with  equal  force,  that  the  moral  exposures  besetting 
a  business  life  in  a  centralized  community,  with  metro 
politan  habits,  required  some  systematic  protection ;  and 
especially  that  the  young  who  come  here,  with  no 
large  experience  of  the  peculiarly  crafty  and  beguiling 
forms  that  iniquity  assumes  in  such  a  place,  fortified  as 
iniquity  often  is  in  these  attacks  by  homesickness  on  one 
side,  and  social  proclivities  on  the  other,  might  well 
impose  some  special  painstaking  on  the  right-minded,  to 
surround  the  strangers  with  something  like  the  warmth 

*  Addressed  to  the  "  Boston  Young  Men's  Christian  Union,"  December 
12,  1852. 


THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL.  363 

of  a  Christian  household,  or  at  least  with  the  fellowships 
of  a  moral  brotherhood.  For  there  appeared  to  be  no 
good  reason  why  sin  should  come  into  these  men's  char 
acters  under  the  cheerful  guise  of  virtue,  when  virtue 
itself  might  be  equally  welcome  in  its  own.  And  then, 
when  the  time  came  for  determining  of  what  materials 
so  broad  and  noble  a  design  should  compose  its  structure, 
generous  spirits  could,  of  course,  decide  the  question 
but  one  way :  it  must  be  equally  open  to  all  men  sin 
cerely  claiming  a  Christian  belief  and  purpose,  whatever 
other  name  they  might  superadd  to  the  grand  primitive 
one ;  and  so  the  society  became  a  "  Christian  Union." 

At  different  points  in  the  progress  of  its  history  thus 
far,  these  feelings  that  led  to  its  formation  have  been 
laid  open,  in  meetings  and  through  the  press, —  suffi 
ciently,  I  should  think,  to  have  secured  a  general  under 
standing  of  their  scope  and  object.  In  discharging  the 
office  assigned  me  by  the  government  of  the  association 
to-night,  therefore,  if  I  might  find  a  subject  which,  while 
it  should  touch  and  cover  those  salient  features  of  this 
plan  that  it  is  most  desirable  to  notice,  would  also  pos 
sess  some  inherent  unity  and  independent  interest  of  its 
own,  I  should  probably  serve  your  wishes  by  handling  it, 
more  effectually  than  by  limiting  my  discourse  within 
the  specific  details  of  your  movement. 

Such  a  subject  has  offered  itself,  I  conceive,  under  the 
form  of  an  inquiry  into  the  characteristics  and  the  power 
of  a  religion,  which,  in  a  better  sense  than  the  technical, 
theological  one,  is  natural.  A  better  sense,  I  say,  mean 
ing  a  simpler  and  more  grateful  one  ;  because,  while  the 
Natural  Religion  o"f  theology  signifies  a  scheme  distinct 
from  express  revelation,  and  bereaved  of  Scripture  sup 
ports,  this  religion  that  is  truly  natural,  of  which  I  am  to 


364  THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL. 

speak,  is  the  gift  of  revelation,  and  rests  its  whole  law, 
promise,  and  authority  on  the  Bible.  It  will  be  for  you 
to  judge,  as  I  attempt  to  identify  it  and  describe  its  traits, 
whether  its  common  reception  into  faith  would  not  do 
more  to  satisfy  the  wants  that  young  men  are  conscious 
of,  more  to  strengthen  and  beautify  their  characters, 
more  to  save  them  from  every  species  of  danger,  than 
any  agency  beside. 

It  would  be  a  poor  affectation,  however,  to  ignore  that 
other  view  of  the  relation  between  nature  and  religion, 
which  has  written  itself  out  into  a  distinct  philosophy 
under  the  name  of  Naturalism.  Denying  the  operation 
of  any  other  causes  than  those  that  lie  within  the  full 
grasp  of  the  understanding,  and  are  capable  of  being 
subjected  to  the  definitions  and  analysis  of  science,  in 
those  grand  religious  facts,  the  inspiration  of  the  Scrip 
tures,  the  redemption  of  man  by  Christ,  and  the  renewal 
of  the  soul  into  spiritual  life,  Naturalism,  so  called, 
opposes  itself  in  direct  issue  against  all  the  positions  I 
intend  to  take,  and  all  the  Christianity  I  should  wish  to 
expound.  It  lies  directly  on  my  way  into  my  theme,  and 
is  required  by  the  terms  I  employ,  to  remark  of  this 
scheme,  that  its  fundamental  fallacy  is  in  a  radical  mis 
conception  of  the  first  fact  in  the  case,  religion.  By  its 
primal  suggestion,  in  the  first  step  it  takes  with  us,  relig 
ion  carries  us  over  into  contact  with  super-natural  real 
ities.  Locating  its  objects  in  a  sphere  beyond  nature,  — 
the  infinite,  —  all  its  revelations,  to  be  authoritative,  must, 
of  course,  proceed  from  a  supernatural  source,  authen 
ticating  themselves  by  supernatural  signs.  To  claim  for 
a  revelation  pertaining  to  religion,  therefore,  that  it  be 
judged  exclusively  by  the  canons  and  criticisms  of  secular 
science,  is  in  effect  to  begin  by  denying  the  premise,  — 


THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL.  365 

denying  that  there  is  any  such  thing  as  religion.  To 
proceed  further,  to  argue  that,  since  supernatural  facts, 
the  incarnation,  and  divine  offices  of  the  Spirit,  are  im 
possible,  or  contrary  to  reason,  the  claim  for  them  dis 
credits  Christianity,  is  to  introduce  such  confusion  of 
reasoning  as  amounts  to  impertinence.  This  is  the 
logical  offence  of  pure  Rationalism,  and,  being  irrational, 
is  ah  offence  against  itself.  It  mistakes  one  science  for 
another ;  and,  what  is  worse,  turns  the  necessary  condi 
tion  on  which  man  can  have  religion  at  all,  into  an  ar 
gument  against  the  only  possible  way  of  his  getting  it. 
Religion,  by  derivation,  signifies  what  binds  the  human 
soul  back  to  God,  —  finite  to  Infinite.  Of  course,  super- 
naturalism  inheres  in  it  by  its  nature.  In  short,  not  to 
extend  this  introductory  train  of  observation,  it  is  no  par 
adox  to  say,  that  a  supernatural  religion  is  the  only  natu 
ral  one.  So  far  from  the  fact  that  revelation  involves 
mysteries  acting  as  an  embarrassment  to  it,  it  would  be 
the  blankest  refutation  of  its  pretences,  and  a  destruction 
of  its  object,  if  it  did  not.  Christianity  comes  to  bridge 
the  gulf  between  the  creature,  who  is  also  a  sinning 
creature,  and  the  perfect  God.  That  mediation,  and  the 
Mediator  embodying  it,  must  then  of  necessity  contain 
elements,  not  human,  but  divine  ;  and  the  only  interpre 
tation  of  the  New  Testament  that  is  natural,  I  contend, 
is  that  which  accepts  this  truth,  and  commends  it  to  the 
world's  faith. 

Leaving  this  point,  I  shall  go  on  to  lay  before  you,  in 
a  direct  form,  what  appear  to  me  the  chief  characteristics 
and  offices  by  which  we  shall  recognize  the  religion  that 
is  at  once  natural  and  supernatural,  thus  bearing  the 
brightest  marks  of  truth  and  divinity ;  supernatural,  that 
is,  in  its  design  and  introduction,  but  natural,  or  accord- 

31* 


366  THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL. 

ing-  to  what  we  know  of  natural,  in  its  manifestations  in 
character,  and  its  working  in  the  world. 

What  connects  the  subject  with  this  occasion,  is  the 
circumstance  that  it  seems  to  meet  two  of  the  common 
est  obstacles  to  a  cordial  adoption  of  the  Christian  stand 
ing-place  on  the  part  of  young  men :  one  of  these  being 
disgust  at  the  ww-natural  phases  that  religion  is  often 
made  to  assume,  in  formal  manners  and  unhuman  affec 
tations  ;  the  other  being  a  tendency  to  lax  speculations, 
which  flatter  the  pride  of  immature  students,  or  those 
that  only  repeat  the  catchwords  of  such,  so  slipping  into 
cant  of  another  species,  but  which  are  finally  found  to 
cheat  the  soul  under  any  real  experience  of  life;  and  dis 
satisfy  the  heart. 

I.  The  first  mark  I  shall  mention  of  the  religion  that 
in  this  high  sense  is  natural,  is  this,  —  that  it  unites  the 
culture  of  those  qualities  which  men  esteem  for  their 
manliness,  with  those  that  God  requires  for  their  sanc 
tity,  and  so  harmonizes  nobleness  of  spirit  with  strictness 
of  doctrine. 

Harmonizes  them, —  does  not  confound  them.  Honor, 
frankness,  magnanimity,  make  no  man  a  Christian  dis 
ciple.  But  then  Christianity  suffers  no  disciple  to  be 
treacherous,  cunning,  or  mean.  Honor,  frankness,  mag 
nanimity,  and  the  whole  of  that  royal  family,  are  the 
vigorous  and  graceful  stock  on  which  Christianity  in 
grafts  its  new  and  divine  principle.  Whatever  moral 
beauty  it  does  not  create,  Christianity  claims  and  makes 
its  own  by  adoption.  These  well-born  virtues  are  or 
phans  in  the  world,  till  Christ  shows  them  the  Father. 
Something  is  greatly  wanting  in  them,  till  they  learn 
from  Jesus  a  filial  submission  and  a  holy  trust.  Honor, 


THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL.  367 

frankness,  magnanimity,  may  all  consist  with  pride,  or 
prayerless  self-will,  —  that  pride  which  Christianity  pros 
trates  with  its  first  word,  when  it  cries,  "  Repent  and  be 
converted."  Under  that  vicious  alliance,  they  can  never 
carry  the  soul  forward  into  its  ripest  maturity.  They 
stop  at  a  half-way  stage  of  the  possible  stature  of  human 
ity.  But  separate  them  from  that  self-confidence,  and 
you  liberate  them  for  a  boundless  progress.  Hallow 
them  by  a  Gospel  penitence,  and  they  rise  into  a  new 
and  an  infinite  dignity.  They  root  themselves,  then,  in 
a  firmer  soil.  They  take  a  new  guaranty  of  persever 
ance  from  Him  who  is  the  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and 
for  ever.  They  put  on  the  attribute  of  stability,  borrow 
ing  it  from  the  unshaken  throne  where  they  are  now  cen 
tred  and  balanced.  That  cluster  of  radiant  traits,  which 
gain  a  uniform  approval  in  the  worldliest  companies, 
which  conform  to  the  highest  secular  standard,  and  which 
are  required  in  the  code  of  gentlemen,  never  reach  their 
loftiest  growth  till  Faith  crowns  them  with  her  unrivalled 
glory.  On  their  own  ground,  then,  and  for  their  ultimate 
perfecting,  these  traits  that  men  everywhere  admire  for 
their  manliness  must  confess  the  sway  of  Religion,  and  be 
sanctified  by  her  doctrines. 

There  is  no  looser  nor  less  philosophical  heresy,  than 
that  Christianity  does  not  bring  into  the  world,  and  put 
into  character,  something  peculiar  to  itself,  —  a  charm 
unborrowed  and  inimitable.  No  instinctive  amiabilities, 
nor  generous  propensities,  can  rival  it ;  no  combination 
of  Pagan  merits  can  counterfeit  it.  A  character  truly 
touched  with  the  Christian  consecration  carries  upon  it 
a  certain  spiritual  sign,  which  even  eyes  of  flesh  take 
knowledge  of.  The  real  disciple,  spite  of  his  modesty, 
and  all  the  more  infallibly  because  of  his  modesty,  has 


368  THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL. 

the  seal  written  on  his  forehead,  to  be  known  unmistak 
ably,  and  read  of  all  men. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  is  no  brighter  token  that  the 
Gospel  came  from  the  Builder  of  the  worlds,  than  that  it 
takes  up  into  the  scope  of  its  own  design,  and  makes  a 
part  of  its  own  honor,  whatever  goodness  has  come  to 
light  in  the  world,  outside  of  its  conscious  kingdom.  The 
moment  this  all-comprehending  and  catholic  law  of  life 
was  revealed  on  earth  in  Jesus,  all  pre-existing  morality 
seemed  at  once,  by  a  natural  necessity,  to  become  an 
element  in  its  strength.  All  foreign  loveliness  merged 
itself  in  that  transcendent  beauty.  Name  whatsoever 
virtue  or  aspiration  you  might,  it  had  its  niche  provided 
for  it  in  this  Christian  Pantheon  of  the  new  worship.  By 
this  wonderful  assimilative  energy,  Christianity  instantly 
appropriated  to  itself  all  the  lawful  forces  of  nature.  It 
enthroned  itself  as  the  sovereign  of  the  world's  experience, 
claiming  the  universal  empire  of  life  by  divine  right. 
That  reverential  attempt  of  Christian  art  to  represent  the 
Saviour  as  the  centre  of  original  light,  by  encompassing 
his  head  with  a  glory  radiating  in  every  direction,  might 
have  its  meaning  inverted,  and  still  be  a  true  symbol;  for 
all  the  rays  of  moral  splendor,  playing  before  like  irreg 
ular  lightning  along  the  horizon  of  history,  suddenly  con 
verged,  to  shine  with  a  concentrated  and  steady  beam  in 
the  face  of  Jesus  Christ.  Some  critic  has  said :  "  Paul, 
the  Hebrew,  had  as  fine  theories  of  art  as  he  had  of  soci 
ety,  if  he  had  only  had  a  chance  of  working  them  out." 
And  this  may  be  only  a  concrete  way  of  saying,  that 
Christianity,  holding  in  itself  the  law  of  every  human 
interest,  is  capable  of  blessing  the  science  of  universal 
beauty  or  order,  as  much  as  the  actings  of  the  will.  So 
manifest  has  this  been,  that  some  writers  have  been  led 


THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL.  369 

by  it  to  exhibit  Christianity  as  being  nothing  else  than  a 
compilation,  or  systematic  compendium,  of  all  the  natu 
ral  religions;  the  rules  of  the  common  moral  sense  of 
mankind  codified;  the  residuum  of  all  heathen  instruc 
tions;  a  kind  of  pantheological  eclecticism.  The  fallacy 
of  that  notion  lies  in  overlooking  those  distinctive  and 
attested  supernatural  facts,  of  the  divine  incarnation  and 
the  cross,  with  the  doctrines  they  embody,  —  reconcilia 
tion  and  forgiveness,  —  which,  while  they  separate  the 
Christian  from  some  religions,  as  the  complete  from  the 
partial,  or  the  absolute  from  the  relative,  distinguish 
it  from  others  as  the  redemptive  from  the  educational. 
Other  faiths  propose  to  benefit  man  by  advising  him  as 
to  his  behavior;  Christianity,  by  first  saving  him  from  his 
sins.  Other  teachers  help  the  race ;  Christ  redeems  it. 
But  what  was  plausible  in  this  theory  was  the  fact,  that 
Christianity  does  adopt,  and  welcome,  and  embrace, 
every  trait  that  the  intuition  of  right  minds  follows  with 
its  admiration.  It  asks  no  man  to  be  a  whit  less  manly, 
—  less  cordial  in  his  fellowships,  less  cheerful  in  his  tem 
per,  less  companionable  and  genial  in  his  relations  to 
society,  less  penetrating  in  his  sagacity,  less  noble  in  his 
manners,  or  less  punctual  in  his  industry.  Does  it  not 
say,  "Not  slothful  in  business,"  as  well  as  "fervent  in 
spirit "  ?  You  speak  of  sincerity,  downrightness,  or  trans 
parency:  were  not  the  sharpest  rebukes  that  the  Prophet 
of  Nazareth  ever  pronounced  —  those  awful  "  woes  "  that 
almost  darken  the  page,  and  must  have  sounded  like  the 
fore-peals  of  the  trumpet  of  eternal  judgment  —  levelled 
at  Pharisees  and  pretenders  ?  Did  not  Christ  declare  it 
the  direct,  uncompromising  function  of  his  truth  to  un 
cover  what  is  hid  ?  and  is  it  not  expressly  made  a  condi 
tion  of  that  "  wisdom  which  cometh  from  above,"  that  it 


370  THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL. 

be  without  insincerity?     Or  you  speak  of  knowledge, 
culture,   science,  as  something  worthy  of  man's  esteem. 
What  is  Christianity  but  the  fundamental  science,  —  the 
science  of  man  himself?     Christianity  knows  men.     Is 
it  not  written,  and  believed  by  you,  of  Christ  himself,  — 
whose  person  embodied  Christianity,  in  whose  thought  it 
was  organized,  and  in  whose  heart  its  blood  throbbed, — 
that  he  "  needed  not  that  any  should  testify  of  man,"  and 
that  "  the   Father  showeth  him  all  things  that  himself 
doeth  "  ?     You  say  there  is  another  kind  of  intelligence 
that  men  lawfully  respect,  which  is  called  shrewdness,  or 
practical  acquaintance  with  affairs.     But  is  not  that,  too, 
provided  for  in  the  New  Testament  ?     Do  you  suppose 
it  was  irrespective   of  their  practical  experience  among 
men,  that  Christ  chose  his  first  disciples,  the  foremost  rep 
resentatives  of  his  truth,  from  among  tax-gatherers,  fish 
ermen,  tent-makers,  and  physicians  ?     Or  will  you  look 
through  literature  or  biography,  or  the  marts  of  commerce, 
or  the  boards  of  the  exchange,  for  a  shrewder  insight  into 
all  the  ways  and  windings  of  human  nature,  than  lurked 
in  the  sharp  eye  and  wakeful  perception  of  that  leading 
Apostle,  who  turned  the  world  upside  down  with  his  calm 
hand,  carried  his  points  with  the  dignitaries  of  provinces, 
foiled  Felix  and  Agrippa,  foresaw  and  forearmed  himself 
against  all  that  men  could  do  to  him,  and  in  his  Epistles 
tears   open  the  cunningest  wrappages  of  self-deception 
with  his   holy  satire,  —  conquering  Greek  sophists    and 
Roman  disciplinarians  with  weapons  out  of  their  own 
quiver  ?     You  instance  courage;  and  is  there  not  enough 
of  that  in  that  pioneering  rank  of  the  u  noble  army  of 
martyrs,"  whom  there  was  no  dungeon  dark  enough  to 
terrify,  from  Jerusalem  to  Rome,  and  who  would  not 
blench,  nor  even  revile  nor  murmur,  under  all  the  scourges 


THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL.  371 

of  Jewry,  the  whips  of  dainty  Philippi,  or  the  lion's  teeth 
in  the  Roman  amphitheatre  ?  Generosity,  you  say,  is 
manly ;  but  who  will  so  disown  his  own  reason,  as  to 
confess  he  finds  no  generosity  in  that  faith  whose  primal 
lesson  is  self-sacrifice,  whose  chosen  badge  and  emblem 
is  a  cross,  and  which  was  taught  and  sealed  by  Him 
who  gave  his  very  life  for  the  life  of  his  followers  ?  You 
mention  hospitality;  and  is  not  hospitality  enjoined,  with 
repetition  and  emphasis,  by  both  Paul  and  Peter,  as  the 
attribute  of  saints,  the  grace  of  bishops,  and  the  duty  of 
all  believers  ?  Of  patriotism  ;  and  who  was  he  that 
cried,  weeping,  "  O  Jerusalem  !  Jerusalem !  if  thou  hadst 
known  how  often  I  would  have  gathered  thy  children  "  ? 
Of  the  taste  and  love  for  the  beautiful ;  but  whose  finger 
was  that  which  pointed  most  admiringly,  as  he  discoursed, 
to  the  summer  glories,  the  waving  wheat  and  nodding 
lilies,  the  trees  and  lakes  and  gorgeous  skies  of  Palestine  ? 
—  whose  eye,  that  rested  with  sweetest  satisfaction  on 
that  affluent  and  varied  scenery  ?  —  whose  word,  that 
blended  the  mystic  openings  of  the  sunrise  with  the 
light  that  lighteth  every  man  that  cometh  into  the  world, 
and  so  taught  us  how  the  relish  of  all  that  is  sublime  or 
lovely  should  rise  at  last  and  culminate  in  the  worship  of 
the  Father,  even  as  every  manly  and  heroic  quality  is 
perfected  only  in  the  soul  that  is  united  to  the  Son  ? 

So  it  has  been  in  history.  The  religion  of  Jesus  has 
realized  its  own  promise,  —  completing  not  only  Juda 
ism,  but  all  good  yearnings  and  beginnings  everywhere. 
It  did  not  come  to  destroy,  but  to  fulfil.  It  had  its  kindly 
word  at  the  outset,  even  for  those  that,  having  not  the 
law,  did  by  nature  the  things  contained  in  the  law.  And 
ever  since,  it  has  spread  the  benignant  arms  of  its  adop 
tion  over  every  worthy  purpose,  and  every  pure  aspira- 


372  THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL. 

tion  that  will  acknowledge  its  guardianship.  Wherever 
the  germs  of  lofty  action  unfold  themselves,  there  the  fos 
tering  hand  of  its  discipline  is  present  to  train  them. 
The  sublimity  of  all  honorable  achievements,  the  valor  of 
pure-hearted  patriots,  disinterested  sufferings,  the  patience 
and  fortitude  and  constancy  that  come  out  so  grandly  in 
fearful  emergencies,  —  they  are  all  as  much  the  Gospel's 
as  they  are  humanity's.  You  always  see  how  much  they 
lack,  till  they  take  on  the  sanctity  of  a  conscious  com 
munion  with  the  Christ ;  till  they  are  invested  with  the 
dignity  of  a  regenerate  devotion.  But  the  instant  they 
so  submit  themselves,  they  all  render  in  their  concordant 
homage  to  the  Universal  Lord;  and  he  calls  them  his 
own.  They  bring  their  honor  and  praise,  wisdom  and 
power,  to  "  Him  that  sitteth  on  the  throne,"  "  whose  right 
it  is  to  reign"  over  them.  Manliness  enters  into  the 
composition  of  piety.  All  that  the  unperverted  judgment 
of  the  world  approves,  the  Gospel  invites.  What  lends 
their  real  lustre  to  the  memorable  spots  on  the  globe, 
what  attracts  the  companies  of  genial  and  innocent  fel 
lowship,  what  makes  the  joy  of  light-hearted  children,  the 
usefulness  of  labor,  the  benefits  of  civilization,  the  hardi 
hood  and  enterprise  of  traffic  and  invention,  colonies  and 
arts,  what  binds  families  and  blesses  homes,  —  these  all 
are,  in  the  last  sense,  yours  only  when  you  are  Christian 
souls.  Over  every  field  where  real  goodness  starts  into 
life,  Christianity  extends  its  benediction.  So  what  the 
world  holds  as  its  best,  the  Messiah  accepts  as  his  tribute. 
His  Church  has  arms  wider  than  the  charity  of  the  world. 
Providence  realizes  prophecy.  "  The  sons  of  strangers 
build  up  thy  walls.  Thy  gates  shall  be  open  continu 
ally,  that  men  may  bring  unto  thee  the  forces  of  the 
Gentiles.  The  flocks  of  Kedar,  —  the  dromedaries  of 


THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL.  373 

Midian  and  Ephah  ;  these  that  fly  as  doves  to  their  win 
dows  ;  all  they  from  Sheba  shall  come,  bringing  gold  and 
incense ;  the  isles  shall  wait  for  thee ;  the  sons  of  them 
that  afflicted  thee  shall  come  bending  unto  thee,  —  for 
brass,  gold ;  and  for  iron,  silver ;  and  for  wood,  brass  ; 
and  for  stones,  iron.  The  glory  of  Lebanon  shall  come 
unto  thee,  —  the  fir-tree,  the  pine-tree,  and  the  box  to 
gether, —  to  beautify  the  place  of  the  sanctuary." 

No  doubt,  there  is  such  a  thing  as  manliness  without 
faith.  But  its  defects  are  patent  enough,  even  to  the 
eyes  of  the  faithless  themselves.  You  cannot  live  with 
it  very  long  without  seeing  its  weak  places.  God  kindles 
fires  to  prove  us,  along  our  mortal  discipline,  in  whose 
burning  heat  it  falls  to  pieces  like  a  flimsy  fabric ;  such 
fires  as  require  stuff  of  another  tempering  to  come  out 
refined,  in  vessels  fit  for  immortal  uses.  Manliness 
without  faith  is  not  to  be  trusted ;  for  on  Christian  faith 
depends  Christian  principle ;  and  no  other  principle  can 
stand  all  the  solicitings  of  appetite  and  ambition.  The 
other  kind  lurches  away  sometimes,  leaving  terrible 
chasms  where  some  trusted  pillar  in  the  body  politic,  or 
body  mercantile,  went  down.  Manliness  without  devo 
tion  must  ever  want  the  highest  attraction  in  character, 
which  is  self-renunciation,  —  the  producer  and  ally  of 
true  simplicity.  That  comes  only  of  a  secret  persuasion 
of  infirmity ;  and  that  comes  only  of  the  Gospel,  show 
ing  the  commandment  and  the  violation,  —  the  perfect 
law  and  the  alienated  life,  —  and  spanning  the  gulf  be 
tween,  by  its  blessed  doctrine  of  reconciliation.  Manli 
ness  without  piety  misses  the  profoundest  and  purest 
form  of  gratitude,  because  that  exists  only  at  the  feeling 
of  the  Divine  forgiveness  for  a  sinful  heart,  —  the  gracious 
discharge  from  an  infinite  obligation  producing  the  un- 

32 


374  THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL. 

speakable  peace.  In  short,  manliness  without  faith,  at 
its  best  estate,  is  all  frailty ;  at  its  surest  strength,  it  is 
un steadfast ;  at  its  fairest  promise,  it  is  treacherous  ;  at 
its  fullest  joy,  it  is  empty.  It  may  gain  the  world ;  but, 
like  the  young  man  of  the  Evangelist,  it  turns  away  from 
Jesus,  and  in  its  great  possessions  finds  no  rest. 

And  no  doubt,  on  the  other  han<J,  there  is  such  a  thing 
as  religion  without  manliness,  —  pietism,  and  not  piety. 
This  is  as  unnatural  as  the  other.  You  not  only  rob 
religion,  but  you  insult  and  betray  it,  if  you  present 
it,  through  your  characters,  implicated  in  narrow  judg 
ments,  small  sectarian  manoeuvres,  a  barren  brain,  frigid 
sympathies,  or  a  petty  style  of  manners.  Religion  with 
out  manliness  whines  and  crouches.  It  acts  as  if  Provi 
dence  were  a  tyrant,  the  world  a  prison,  and  man  a  slave. 
Instead  of  holding  its  clear  look  up,  with  conscious  and 
grateful  dignity,  to  the  light,  and  standing  face  to  face 
with  all  the  cheerful  and  solemn  facts  of  life,  and  looking 
straight  into  the  eyes  of  every  creature,  as  faith  gives  it  a 
supreme  right  to  do,  it  goes  to  the  church  with  a  ghastly 
expression,  or  none,  —  creeps  to  the  prayer-meeting  ab 
jectly, — is  half  afraid  to  own  its  cause,  and  shows  its  mea 
gre  mind  by  abusive  and  unillumined  criticisms.  It  re 
sorts  to  tricks  for  the  building  of  a  meeting-house,  which 
the  code  of  honor  among  unconverted  men  would  reject 
from  the  shop,  and  settles  a  minister  or  equips  a  mis 
sionary  with  a  management  too  tortuous  for  the  broker's 
counter.  It  makes  common-sense  cry  out  in  despair, 
Why  cannot  the  disciples  of  Christ  show  the  world  speci 
mens  of  human  character,  as  broad  in  proportions,  as  free 
in  outline,  as  magnanimous  in  temper,  as  sensible  in 
practice,  as  appreciating  in  taste,  as  liberal  in  accomplish 
ments,  as  they  are  superior  by  their  celestial  calling  ? 


THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL.  375 

It  is  an  indirect  confession,  I  think,  how  consistent  the 
strictest  and  most  earnest  system  of  doctrine  is  with  the 
inward  testimony  of  the  heart,  that  a  majority  of  young 
men  who  are  thoughtful  enough  to  fill  a  stated  place  in 
any  sanctuary,  when  they  choose  their  church,  choose 
one  where  the  administration  is  most  decidedly  and 
simply  religious.  I  have  known  young  men,  themselves 
perhaps  not  yet  fulfilling  the  demands  of  a  Christian  vo 
cation,  and  certainly  not  openly  avowing  their  Christian 
purposes,  to  say  this :  "  When  we  go  to  a  house  of 
worship,  we  wish  to  see  the  same  engagedness  and  ear 
nestness  there,  that  we  see  expended  on  a  different  class 
of  objects  all  the  week.  We  are  suspicious  of  a  style 
of  preaching  that  is  merely  genteel,  rhetorical,  or  philo 
sophical.  On  Sunday  we  want  sincerity,  fact,  and  sub 
stance,  as  much  as  in  our  business.  We  want  life,  — 
not  bare  intellectual  life,  but  spiritual.  There  are  books 
enough,  lectures  enough,  science  and  poetry  enough,  else 
where.  When  we  go  to  church,  we  want  to  come  into 
close  contact  with  the  very  root  and  marrow  of  religion  : 
otherwise  it  is  no  object.  Once,  the  Sunday  preaching 
was  literature,  poetry,  art,  lyceum,  university,  company, 
and  all,  to  the  New  England  people,  —  the  grand  intel 
lectual  stimulant  and  social  facility :  now,  it  is  no  such 
thing.  We  go  to  meeting  to  get  glimpses  of  a  Saviour, 
of  heaven,  and  peace.  Besides,  we  hate  shams  and  half- 
beliefs  in  anything,  —  politics  or  prayers.  If  religion  is 
what  you  pretend,  give  us  the  solid  thing,  no  dilution  nor 
fancy-work.  We  hold  you  to  your  honest  word.  We 
say,  as  the  great  English  captain  and  disciplinarian,  late 
ly  dead,  said  to  the  delicate  young  clergyman,  who  un 
dertook  to  win  from  him  an  assent  to  some  lax  construc 
tion  of  the  Gospel  errand,  l  Follow  your  orders.'  We 


376 


THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL. 


say,  as  another  man,  one  of  the  broadest  intellects  of  our 
Western  continent,  more  lately  gone,  said,  '  Let  clergy 
men  preach  more  to  individuals,  and  less  to  the  crowd; 
let  them  say,  "  The  Judge  standeth  before  the  door " ; 
make  it  a  personal  matter ' ;  for,  even  when  we  do  not 
obey,  something  in  us  makes  us  choose  to  hear  the  naked 
and  wakening  truth." 

"  Why  do  you  go,"  it  was  asked  of  one  of  our  mer 
chants'  clerks,  "  to  a  church  where  a  creed  is  embraced 
in  which  you  do  not  believe  ?  "  "  Because,"  he  replied, 
"  I  find  religion  there  presented  as  a  concern  —  a 
pressing,  intimate,  exigent  concern  —  of  the  soul :  repent 
ance,  faith,  newness  of  life,  and  Christ  crucified,  are 
preached  to  me."  It  seems  to  me  he  was  right.  The 
religion  that  is  really  natural  harmonizes  nobleness  and 
manliness  of  spirit  with  strictness  of  doctrine. 

II.  In  the  second  place,  the  religion  that  is  natural 
unites  an  open  confession  of  faith  with  the  hiding  of  its 
inward  power,  and  so  strikes  a  just  balance  between  the 
two  faulty  extremes  of  reserve  on  the  one  side,  and  hy 
pocrisy  on  the  other. 

We  have  in  our  community,  first,  a  class  that  would 
supersede  the  anxiety  to  be  Christians,  by  vigorously  and 
continually  saying  that  they  are  ;  a  class  that  would 
rather  let  iniquity  hide  under  the  altar,  than  thin  the 
crowd  that  bend  decently  before  it ;  and  that  hold  up  no 
other  sign  to  distinguish  a  disciple  from  an  unbeliever, 
than  the  subscription  to  a  covenant.  Out  of  that  class 
comes  hypocrisy.  Opposite  to  these  are  the  timid  minds 
that  shrink  honestly  from  all  church  ties,  and,  with  hearts 
tender  to  holy  impressions,  miss  both  inward  complete 
ness  and  their  outward  efficiency,  by  keeping  aloof  from 


THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL.  377 

church-fellowship.  Theirs  is  a  wrong-headed  reserve. 
But  between  both  these  stands  a  larger  class  than  either, 
excusing  their  non-profession  by  the  inconsistency  of 
false  professors,  but  taking  license  for  a  low  standard  of 
life  from  the  same  example ;  scoffing  at  the  former,  who 
profess  without  practice,  and  practising  with  the  latter, 
only  in  not  professing ;  telling  you  they  can  be  just  as 
holy  men  out  of  the  Church  as  in,  but  evidently  more 
careful  to  be  out  of  the  Church  than  to  be  holy  men. 
Clear  of  these  alien  elements,  it  is  the  problem  of  Chris 
tianity  to  combine  a  Church  of  believers,  who  shall  be 
both  doers  and  professors  of  the  word  of  life. 

And  to  that  end,  Christianity  insists,  first  of  all,  on  a 
real  faith.  Whatever  else  it  has  or  lacks,  the  soul,  to  be 
saved,  must  obey  an  honest  purpose.  Pretence  and 
falsehood  must  be  stripped  off  it.  It  must  believe  with 
the  affections,  heartily.  With  the  heart  man  believeth 
unto  salvation,  before  confession  is  made  with  the  mouth. 
In  all  departments  of  life,  sincerity  is  the  salt  that  saves 
men  from  the  disgrace  of  acted  lies.  Men  of  the  world, 
legislating  only  for  mutual  convenience,  cannot  be  mis 
taken  in  making  downright  and  unpretending  reality  the 
foremost  command  in  their  statute-book.  To  get  rid  of 
the  semblance  of  goodness  where  goodness  is  not,  is  as 
important  to  the  purity  of  the  Church,  or  the  acceptance 
of  a  soul  before  the  Judge  of  hearts,  as  to  get  rid  of  sin 
where  sin  is.  In  fact,  the  pretence  is  sin.  Get  the  con 
viction,  which  is  the  fountain,  and  it  will  furrow  out  a 
channel,  and  fill  it  with  a  stream.  Get  the  new  life,  the 
love  of  God,  and  it  will  shape  a  body  as  the  juices  in  the 
germ  shape  the  tree.  Have  something  to  say,  and  the 
Everlasting  Mind  will  give  you,  as  well  as  the  Apostles,  in 
that  day  and  hour,  how  ye  ought  to  say  it.  It  is  useless 

32* 


378  THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL. 

for  a  man  to  tell  you  "  his  heart  is  right  with  God,  if  you 
see  his  hand  feeling  in  his  neighbor's  pocket,"  or  clutch 
ing  at  unfair  advantages  in  the  market,  or  devouring 
widows'  houses  ;  subscribing  to  philanthropic  projects 
and  swindling  contracts  on  alternate  days  ;  or  reaching 
forth  to  the  bread  and  wine  of  Christ's  table  to-day,  and 
fingering  some  dishonest  bribe  in  office  to-morrow.  You 
will  hardly  trust  the  tongue  that  swears  an  oath  of  divine 
allegiance  when  it  is  good-natured,  but  a  profane  one  in 
a  passion  ;  nor  the  lips  that  repeat  formal  prayers  in  the 
pew,  and  babble  scandal  in  the  parlor.  You  will  not  be 
satisfied  that  men  should  declaim  against  iniquities 
which  they  happen  never  to  be  tempted  by  ;  nor  that 
they  should  come,  with  late  professions,  limping,  maimed, 
and  sickly  sacrifices,  such  as  even  Hebrew  priests  refused, 
after  the  fire  in  the  blood  of  youth  has  cooled,  and  the 
indulged  appetites  have  burnt  out  through  satiety,  to 
offer  God  a  wreck  wasted  in  the  service  of  his  enemies. 
For  "  some,"  says  South,  "  hope  to  be  saved  by  shedding 
a  few  insipid  tears,  and  uttering  a  few  hard  words 
against  those  sins  which  they  have  no  other  controversy 
with,  but  that  they  were  so  unkind  as  to  leave  the  sinner 
before  he  was  willing  to  leave  them."  So  that,  after  all, 
the  fundamental  test  of  profession  is  sincerity  of  faith, 
and  the  test  of  sincerity  of  faith  is  righteousness.  To 
be  natural,  religion  must  be  real.  For  "  in  all  natural 
productions,"  from  cedar  to  hyssop,  from  the  sun  shining 
in  his  strength  to  the  dullest  lump  of  clay,  "  there  is  no 
hypocrisy." 

But  then,  Christianity  as  naturally  requires  confession. 
The  excuses  by  which  men,  and  none  more  than  young 
men,  apologize  for  not  cordially  espousing  Church  rela 
tions,  are  for  the  most  part  evasions,  and  so  involve  some 


THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL.  379 

obliquity,  as  uncandid,  possibly,  as  the  unworthy  profes 
sor's.  John  Foster  suggests  that  the  religious  loquacity 
of  incompetent  pretenders  may  be  a  kind  of  compensa 
tory  judgment  on  those  believers  who  might  honestly 
testify  for  the  Gospel,  but  refuse.  Is  it  not  natural  to 
show  which  side  you  are  on  ?  Is  not  that  counted  the 
way  of  fearlessness,  of  frankness,  of  independence,  in 
your  common  relations,  —  in  politics,  in  local  questions, 
in  measures  of  social  change  ?  There  is  a  greater  issue 
pending  before  you,  nay,  within  you;  and  what  makes 
neutrality  especially  respectable  there  ?  The  world  over, 
and  pre-eminently  in  a  city  like  this,  two  gigantic  forces, 
under  two  leaders,  claim  your  adhesion :  these  two  are 
contrary,  the  one  to  the  other,  and  there  is  no  third. 
Christ  and  his  Church  are  one  ;  Mammon  and  worldly 
good  are  the  other.  You  must  choose  which,  in  you, 
shall  be  supreme ;  it  is  a  providential  necessity  laid  upon 
you ;  nay,  you  have  chosen,  and  do  literally  choose  every 
hour,  anew.  To  be  uncommitted  is  to  be  on  the  side 
that  is  not  God's. 

We  are  not  nearly  enough  in  the  habit  of  treating  re 
ligion  as  a  cause,  and  ourselves  as  soldiers,  whose  honor 
is  bound  up  in  it,  our  all  at  stake  in  it.  Who  is  on  the 
Lord's  side  ?  is  a  question  that  rings  up  and  down  our 
streets  eternally,  and  in  voices  more  solemn  than  brave 
Xavier's  when  he  cried  it  through  the  cities  of  the  East ; 
for  we  are  nominally  Christians,  and  so  in  a  position  to 
do  Christ  more  discredit  infinitely  than  heathenism  ever 
could.  It  is  of  the  utmost  consequence  to  every  young 
man's  singleness  of  heart,  saying  nothing  of  his  future 
welfare,  to  have  this  choice  settled.  Till  then  he  is  per 
petually  compromised.  We  treat  religion  as  if  it  were 
an  isolated  idea  in  every  heart,  and  not  a  unity,  a  king- 


380  THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL. 

dom,  a  cause,  which  it  certainly  is  if  the  New  Testament 
is  true.  Our  excessive  individualism  wrongs  it.  It  is 
an  organization,  it  is  a  church,  it  is  something  we  have 
to  enter  into,  and  fight  for,  and  abide  by. 

Nominally  we  are  Christians,  and  thereby  hangs  an 
obligation.  It  may  be  that  you,  with  all  your  contempt 
for  insincerity,  are  wearing  a  false  name,  and  acting  a 
part  as  essentially  Pharisaic  as  if  you  were  at  once  a 
preacher  and  a  sceptic,  or  a  deacon  and  a  miser.  Relig 
ion  does  not  ask  to  be  complimented  and  bowed  to,  on 
occasions.  It  is  not  honored  in  its  own  spirit  by  any 
formal  attention  to  its  technical  services,  —  its  dress  and 
ritual,  —  divorced  from  a  hearty  submission  to  its  interior 
control ;  nor  by  any  ball-room  compliments  paid  to  its 
respectability  as  an  institution,  unsupported  by  obedience 
to  its  personal  behests.  These  things  are  both  discour 
teous  and  dishonest.  When  we  venture  to  speak  ap 
provingly  of  a  system  of  science,  integrity  demands  of 
us  to  shape  our  speech  by  its  own  definitions.  We  must 
take  it  for  what  it  is,  and  not  for  something  else  that  our 
wilful  constructions  might  put  instead  of  it.  If  you  join 
in  that  universal  and  swelling  confession  which  these 
eighteen  centuries  have  been  accumulating,  you  are 
held  to  a  personal  consistency.  Christianity  is  afraid  of 
no  scrutiny.  It  invites  the  boldest  handling.  It  wants 
no  fine  things  said  of  it,  out  of  etiquette.  It  throws  its 
evidences  into  the  light,  and  stands  on  the  facts.  Like 
the  divine  Person  that  embodies  it,  it  says :  "  Come,  reach 
hither  thy  finger,  and  thrust  it  into  my  hand  ;  and  reach 
hither  thy  hand,  and  thrust  it  into  my  side  ;  be  not  faith 
less,  but  believing  :  and  yet  deny  me,  if  you  will,  rather 
than  heartlessly  assent ;  for  open  foes  are  better  than 
treacherous  followers."  In  a  thousand  ways  you  all  pro- 


THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL.  381 

fess  to  be  a  Christian  people:  why  not,  then,  profess  it 
in  the  one  plainest  and  directest  way  ?  If  we  will  not 
own  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  how  is  the  kingdom  of 
heaven  to  own  us  ? 

Another  consideration  ought  not  to  be  passed  over. 
Society,  in  its  inequalities  and  injustices,  is  constantly 
presenting  a  necessity  for  reforms.  Private  sins  settle 
together,  and  get  organized  into  gigantic  forces.  To  re 
sist  the  collective  evil,  a  collective  sanctity  is  wanting. 
That  is  a  Church.  Now,  if  the  Church  ever  enacts  the 
public  shame  of  proving,  faithless  to  this  sublime  privi 
lege,  leaving  the  great  moral  reformations  to  be  taken  in 
hand  by  well-disposed  persons  standing  outside  of  the 
Church,  then,  instead  of  forsaking  or  avoiding  the  Church, 
let  your  disapproval  rather  draw  you  into  it ;  enlist  your 
disinterested  energies  under  its  standard.  Working  ac 
cording  to  that  providential  way,  you  will  work  with  ten 
fold  greater  success.  Put  your  reforming  zeal,  then,  in 
side  the  Church,  where  it  is  too  much  wanted.  Revive 
its  ancient  primitive  martyr-spirit.  Warm  it  with  your 
prayers,  expand  it  by  your  charity.  Cast  into  it  all  of 
spiritual  strength  and  hope  you  hold,  and  you  shall  both 
save  yourself,  and  build  up  truth,  liberty,  and  love,  beat 
ing  down  intemperance,  war,  licentiousness,  and  slavery. 

So  in  all  other  workings,  where  the  Church  of  Christ 
has  suffered  foreign  devices  to  outwit  or  outdo  its  appro 
priate  business.  This  Young  Men's  Christian  Union 
was  not  formed  to  compete  with  that  divine  body,  nor 
to  supersede  it,  nor  to  comfort  any  of  its  own  members 
with  the  feeling  that  they  need  not  belong  to  it.  The 
right  office  of  your  association  will  be  fulfilled  only  as  it 
leads  more  and  more  of  you  to  open  recognitions  of 
faith,  and  active  participation  in  the  parishes.  Instead 


382  THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL. 

of  carping  at  the  faults  you  see  there,  enter  and  remedy 
them.  If  you  find  God's  houses  fenced  about  with  an 
illiberal  policy,  —  their  pew-doors  locked,  literally  with 
bolts,  or  virtually  with  exorbitant  taxation,  imposed  to 
support  luxurious  appointments,  and  give  worship  a 
stylish  equipage,  —  then  do  not  stand  complaining ;  but 
come  into  the  active  care  of  these  parish  economics, 
lifting  them  gradually  to  the  level  of  your  juster,  equaliz 
ing  ideas.  Take  the  meeting-houses  up  in  your  arms, 
and  do  with  them  as  you  will.  The  body  of  men  before 
me,  consecrated  and  baptized  with  the  Holy  Spirit, 
might  revolutionize  the  whole  ecclesiastical  fashion  in 
twenty  days.  Only  let  it  be  done  out  of  the  propelling 
energy  of  faith,  and  not  from  an  ambitious,  conceited,  or 
sectarian  policy. 

We  all  have  our  creeds,  and,  in  spite  of  ourselves,  we 
profess  them  ;  —  the  creed  of  fashion  ;  the  creed  of  appe 
tite  ;  the  creed  of  a  selfish  expediency  ;  the  creed  of  a 
sect ;  the  creed  of  indifference,  which  is  as  irreligious 
and  as  bigoted  in  its  way  as  any  other  ;  or  the  creed  of 
eternal  right  and  gospel  faith.  Conduct  is  the  great  pro 
fession.  Behavior  is  the  perpetual  revealing  of  us.  A 
man's  doctrines  flow  from  his  fingers'  ends,  and  stand 
out  in  his  doings.  What  he  may  say  is  not  his  chief 
profession,  but  how  he  acts.  Character  lets  out  the  se 
cret  of  his  belief;  what  he  does  tells  what  he  is.  He 
has  "  put  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,"  when  he  has  "  Christ 
formed  within  him."  His  profession  is  as  natural  as  the 
pulse  in  his  veins.  The  good  man  makes  profession  of 
his  goodness,  by  simply  being  good ;  but  the  Christian 
man  will  not  forget  that  he  is  not  wholly  good  till  he  has 
joined  himself  to  Christ's  body.  He  publishes  his  adhe 
sion  as  spontaneously  as  Nature  publishes  her  laws,  —  as 


THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL.  383 

the  sun  its  light,  —  as  the  rose  its  sweetness  ;  —  by  being 
steadfast ;  by  shining  ;  by  fragrant  charities.  It  costs  a 
graceful  elm  no  spasrn  to  paint  a  graceful  image  on  our 
eye,  and  the  sea  spreads  its  mysterious  arms  around  the 
hemispheres  without  vanity.  They  make  their  nature 
known  by  silently  keeping  its  laws.  And  because  the 
Christian  soul  is  made  to  be  a  conscious  member  in  a 
living  organism  or  church,  it  keeps  its  own  high  law  only 
by  being  there.  Religion  belongs  in  the  heart-beat  of  a 
man's  affections,  and  the  breath  of  his  daily  desire  :  till 
it  has  so  possessed  him,  it  is  a  small  matter  that  he 
keeps  its  effigy  as  a  connoisseur  keeps  his  marble  Apollo, 
—  on  the  outskirts  of  his  practical  fortunes.  The  true 
hospitality  takes  it  to  the  heart.  But  when  the  heart 
has  taken  it  in,  it  will  not  lock  it  there,  and  make  it  a 
prisoner.  It  must  go  abroad  again,  for  the  blessing  of 
man  and  the  praise  of  God.  It  will  put  its  owner  into 
the  Church,  not  to  show  himself,  but  that  he  may  the  bet 
ter  become  one  with  his  brethren,  and  their  common  head. 
So  does  the  religion  that  is  natural  unite  the  public  con 
fession  of  it  with  the  hiding  of  its  inward  power. 

As  has  been  wisely  remarked  by  Morell,  "  The  prop 
er  profession  of  Christianity  is  its  practice ;  and,  were 
that  practice  based  upon  an  elevated  idea  of  Chris 
tian  duty,  the  inquiry  as  to  a  man's  profession  would  be 
as  much  out  of  place  as  the  inquiry  respecting  a  How 
ard,  whether  he  professed  a  love  for  humanity ! " 

III.  Thirdly,  the .  religion  that  is  natural  unites  the 
exercise  of  a  scrupulous  conscience  with  the  sentiments 
of  devotion  ;  so  reconciling  morality  and  piety.  Indeed, 
the  divorce  of  these  two  is  so  unnatural,  that  we  can  ac 
count  for  it  only  on  the  score  of  some  terrible  infirmity, 


384  THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL. 

either  in  the  heart  or  the  will,  —  the  affectional  or  the 
executive  part  of  us.  How  else  could  that  twofold  com 
mand,  wedded  by  the  word  of  Christ,  summing  up  the 
ethics  and  the  worship  of  earth  and  heaven,  —  Love 
God  and  love  man,  —  ever  have  been  wrenched  apart  ? 
Morality  loses  its  finest  quality,  its  inspiration,  its  aroma, 
its  constancy,  its  divine  peace,  for  want  of  prayer  ;  arid 
piety  misses  its  effective  force  as  a  producer  of  right 
eousness,  because  the  link  is  lost  between  the  closet  and 
the  market. 

In  one  of  the  bright  books  of  the  day,  I  find  a  coura 
geous  and  impulsive  young  English  fox-hunter  saying 
to  a  clerical  Oxford  cousin :  "  I  feel  that  the  exercise  of 
freedom,  activity,  foresight,  daring,  independent  self-de 
termination,  even  in  a  few  minutes'  burst  across  country, 
strengthens  me  in  mind  as  well  as  in  body.  It  sweeps 
away  the  web  of  self-consciousness.  As  for  bad  com 
pany,  when  those  that  have  renounced  the  world  give  up 
speculating  in  the  stocks,  you  may  quote  pious  people's 
opinions.  We  fox-hunters  see  that  the  '  religious  world  ' 
is  much  like  the  '  great  world,'  and  the  '  sporting  world,' 
and  the  '  literary  world  '  ;  and  that,  because  this  happens 
to  be  a  money-making  country,  and  money-making  is 
an  effeminate  pursuit,  therefore  all  sedentary  sins,  like 
covetousness,  slander,  bigotry,  and  self-conceit,  are  to 
be  plastered  over,  while  the  more  masculine  vices  are 
hunted  down  by  your  cold-blooded  religionists.  Be  'sure 
that,  as  long  as  you  make  piety  a  synonyme  for  this 
weak  morality,  you  will  never  convert  me,  nor  any  other 
good  sportsman." 

Now,  Christianity  ought  not  to  be  afraid  to  hear  the 
thoughts  that  are  working  in  young  men's  brains  speak 
out  with  just  this  candor.  True  Christianity  will  not  be 


THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL.  385 

afraid,  though  she  may  regret  the  narrow  premises,  the 
dim  reasoning,  and  the  superficial  conclusions,  which 
make  the  selfishness  of  unscrupulous  worshippers  an  ex 
cuse  for  despising  the  religion  of  the  New  Testament. 
Her  advocates  and  ministers  may  learn  something  from 
it,  and  be  able  to  take  a  more  intelligent  and  forcible 
attitude  for  it.  They  may  learn  from  it  that  any  relig 
ious  ardors  are,  in  the  long  run,  maniacal  and  delusive, 
which  do  not  work  themselves  out  straightway  into  all 
parts  of  life.  They  may  learn  that  the  proud  friends  and 
self-styled  elect  of  the  Church  may  be  its  most  ruinous 
traitors.  They  may  learn  that  precisely  the  religious 
administration  which  the  world  needs  now  is  one  that 
never  ceases  to  insist  on  a  consistent  manifestation  of 
faith,  through  works  that  bless  and  ennoble  humanity. 

If  I  might  venture  to  define  what  is  the  great  mischief 
of  the  merely  moral  or  conscience-system  of  life,  I  should 
say  that  it  excludes  the  most  powerful  principle  of  dis 
interested  action,  which  is  a  grateful  trust  in  a  love  flow 
ing  infinitely  from  God,  through  Christ  and  his  cross. 
Instead  of  this,  it  takes  the  iron  rule  of  law  or  command. 
Of  course,  on  that  ground,  its  only  standard  and  hope  of 
acceptance  or  success  is  in  the  more  or  less  merit  which 
comes  of  more  or  less  obedience  to  that  law.  But,  at 
this  point,  the  soul,  looking  at  the  law,  is  awe-struck 
to  find  it  a  perfect  law,  coming  from  a  perfect  author, 
allowing  for  no  sin,  and  nowhere  offering  the  least  en 
couragement  to  a  half-obedience.  At  the  same  moment, 
it  discovers,  with  dismay,  that,  owing  to  inherent  pro 
pensities  and  passions,  this  obedience  never  was  nor  is 
likely  to  be  perfect.  Where  is  it,  then  ?  Merit  is  out 
of  the  question.  The  utmost  duty  falls  short,  and  the 
servant  is  unprofitable  at  best.  One  of  two  things  fol- 


386  THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL. 

lows :  this  man  must  either  deny  to  God  his  perfection 
of  purity,  and  to  the  law  its  binding  authority,  so  as  to 
make  room  for  his  short-comings ;  or  else  he  must  sink 
into  utter  despair,  because  they  do  nothing  but  condemn 
him.  This  would  seem  to  be  the  result  of  the  conscience 
system  alone,  without  the  mediatorship,  and  its  doctrines 
of  reconciliation,  in  Christ.  It  leaves  man  either  without 
reverence  or  without  peace,  or  both. 

Then  it  engenders  a  poor  habit  of  continual  self-refer 
ence,  self-measurement,  and  self-centralization,  instead  of 
taking  the  soul  up  above  itself,  giving  it  an  object  there 
to  live  for,  in  gratitude  and  love.  It  diseases  us  with 
"that  morbid  self-consciousness  and  lust  of  praise,"  so 
common  among  our  Christians  even ;  of  which  it  has 
been  wisely  said,  "  that  God  prepares  for  it,"  in  his  own 
way  and  time,  "  with  all  his  truly  elect,  a  bitter  cure." 
It  sets  consciousness  above  revelation,  as  a  light  to  the 
mysteries  of  our  inner  life  ;  and  that  "  consciousness  is  a 
dim  candle  over  a  deep  mine."  The  aspiration  after  the 
Perfect,  in  all  noble  natures,  is  the  mightiest  hunger  of 
the  heart.  But  if  no  blessed  promise  of  forgiveness  is  to 
come  by  faith,  and  comfort  its  failures,  all  its  yearnings 
are  tortures,  and  it  is  only  the  mightiest  tormentor  of  the 
heart.  What  is  needful  but  the  prayers  of  faith,  second 
ing  the  intercessions  of  a  Church  and  a  Mediator,  to  bear 
it  up  above  these  sad  distractions,  and  rest  it  in  the  peace 
of  God  ? 

But,  then,  just  there  you  see  how  the  same  habit,  in 
another  stage,  invades  the  domain  of  prayer  itself,  and 
enfeebles  its  peculiar  energy,  with  the  strange  theory, 
never  gained  from  Scripture  certainly,  that  prayer  is,  after 
all,  another  name  for  work,  or  behaving  morally,  —  that 
there  is  no  veritable  asking  and  receiving  in  it,  as  Jesus 


THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL.  387 

plainly  declares,  but  that  we  are  to  go  through  the  cere 
mony  of  praying  to  God  just  as  if  there  were  a  God  hear 
ing  us  and  answering,  only  because,  by  imposing  on  our 
selves  that  trick,  we  excite  our  own  resolution,  climb  into 
a  purer  mood,  and  gain  some  favors  from  the  natural  laws ; 
—  this,  instead  of  praying  such  honest  prayers  as  children 
bring  to  their  parents,  doubting  nothing,  and  as  real  be 
lievers  have  known  to  be  answered  ever  since  belief  was, 
—  such  prayers  as  the  Bible  prays  for  us.  What  faith 
asks,  again,  therefore,  is  that  our  very  prayers  themselves 
shall  be  re-christianized,  and  a  literal  communion  between 
earth  and  heaven  be  re-opened. 

Inverting  now  the  direction  of  our  search,  we  look  for 
morality.  James,  with  his  Epistle  for  godly  conduct, 
must  follow  Paul  with  his  fervent  enthusiasms  of  devo 
tion.  Life  is  a  vineyard.  Its  business  is  a  task.  We 
are  set  down  in  a  field  white  already  to  harvest.  Hu 
manity  has  wrongs  to  be  righted,  and  oppressions  to  be 
lifted  off.  Bargains  are  to  be  made  immaculate.  Lusts 
are  to  be  quenched.  Selfishness  is  to  be  softened.  In  a 
word,  faith  is  to  bear  fruit  an  hundred-fold,  and  piety  to 
lead  a  moral  life.  Otherwise,  the  whole  head  of  faith  is 
sick,  and  the  whole  heart  of  piety  is  faint. 

This  every-day,  familiar,  working  religion,  the  religion 
of  little  things,  is  Christianity.  To  Jesus,  the  lily  grow 
ing  in  the  shadow  of  Gerizim  was  as  sacred  as  the  tem 
ple  blazing  in  the  splendor  of  Mount  Moriah,  and  the 
widow's  mite  and  humility  worthy  as  Joseph's  courage 
and  fortune.  You  have  heard  of  the  Turkish  piety  that 
will  carefully  put  aside  all  fragments  of  paper,  lest  the 
name  of  God,  written  on  them  by  chance,  should  be  trod 
den  on  and  profaned.  Christian  reverence  will  gather 
up  the  scraps  of  time  and  opportunity,  because  on  them 


388  THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL. 

all  is  certainly  stamped  the  law  of  religious  accountabil 
ity.  The  dyer's  hand,  they  say,  is  subdued  to  the  thing 
it  works  in  ;  but  so,  morally,  is  every  man's.  Suppose 
you  tell  a  friend,  who  comes  to  be  your  guest,  that  you 
will  set  apart  one  house  that  shall  hold  him  locked  up, 
where  you  will  meet  him  one  hour  in  the  week,  and  there 
pay  him  professions  of  extravagant  esteem ;  but  you  will 
not  allow  him  in  your  home,  your  shop,  or  your  recrea 
tions.  That  is  the  hospitality  which  many  of  us  show 
to  religion.  Neither  devotion  nor  conscience  will  reach 
its  natural  growth  so.  Character — joint  fruit  of  piety 
and  morality,  prayer  and  work  —  is  the  glory  of  the 
world  ;  and  only  that  holiness  has  immortality. 

IV.  My  fourth  and  final  position  is  this  :  —  The  relig 
ion  that  is  natural  unites  a  supreme  zeal  for  evangelical 
belief  with  the  largest  Christian  catholicity,  and  so  blends 
fidelity  with  charity. 

My  meaning  is,  that  religious  toleration  ought  not  to 
stand  indebted  for  its  prevalence  to  religious  indifference. 
A  part  of  the  "  Christian  liberty  "  of  which  our  modern 
age  boasts,  may  be  merely  a  liberty,  or  license,  not  to  be 
Christian.  Some  of  our  powers,  both  civil  and  ecclesias 
tical,  care  too  little,  possibly,  about  any  faith,  to  oppress 
any.  The  reign  of  true  charity  can  never  be  inaugurated 
on  earth  by  discrowning  zeal. 

Zeal  any  vital  and  conquering  system  must  have.  It 
is  one  of  the  manliest  and  mightiest  attributes  of  our  na 
ture.  To  Christian  character  it  is  what  heat  is  to  the 
sun.  Now,  zeal  implies  convictions ;  not  loose,  vague, 
slippery  notions,  so  carelessly  held  as  to  breed  unconcern, 
or  so  falsely  spiritual  as  to  melt  away  before  the  eye,  into 
thin,  vapory  generalities  ;  but  convictions,  —  definite,  de- 


THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL.  389 

cided,  special.  These  are  the  things  that  beget  an  hon 
est  zeal.  Men  do  not  toil,  and  sweat,  and  lay  down  for 
tune  and  fame  for  the  sake  of  cloudy  abstractions ;  nor 
do  martyrs  go  to  the  axe  and  fire  for  the  sake  of  being 
"  a  pretty  good  sort  of  men  for  the  most  part,"  or  doing 
about  right  in  general.  I  have  already  spoken  of  the 
relish  strong  minds  have  for  strong  doctrine.  When  you 
go  to  church  only  to  hear  it  preached  to  you,  that  self-cul 
tivation  is  all  you  want ;  that  sin  is  an  old-fashioned, 
obsolete  phantom ;  that,  having  got  rid  of  the  notion  of 
a  devil,  theology  has  now  only  to  get  rid  of  the  anxiety 
about  his  works ;  that  the  difference  between  converted 
and  unconverted  is  only  the  difference  between  more  and 
less  of  manhood,  or  personal  distinction  ;  that  retribution 
is  soft  or  a  nullity,  and  divine  justice  a  figure  of  speech, 
and  intuition  the  grand  guide,  and  passion  the  voice  of 
Divinity,  or  dying  penitence  an  atonement  for  a  vile  life, 
or  the  redemptive  work  an  easy  acquittal  and  substitute 
for  our  own,  —  then  you  feel,  I  have  no  doubt,  that  you 
have  been  debauched  by  the  preaching.  If  you  are  a 
dissipated  and  profligate  man  yourself,  you  will  yet  de 
spise  the  minister  for  flattery  and  falsehood,  who  tells 
you  the  dissipated  and  profligate  man  is  nothing  but  an 
immature  style  of  man,  a  little  behind  his  regenerate 
neighbor  on  the  same  road.  You  know  that  Christianity 
divides  the  world  into  two  sorts  of  men.  If  you  are  a 
sinner,  of  any  shape,  something  in  you  will  extort  your 
consent  when  you  are  told  that  God  hates  sin.  You 
know  that,  after  a  sinful  life,  the  religion  that  cries,  "  Be 
born  again,"  is  the  most  natural  religion,  —  that  guilt  in 
volves  the  peril  of  perdition,  —  that  repentance  is  the  only 
rescue,  faith  in  Christ  Jesus  the  only  blessedness,  and 
righteousness,  springing  therefrom,  the  only  salvation. 


.33* 


390  THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL. 

It  is  a  striking  etymological  confirmation  of  the  tie  that 
connects  strict  believing  with  strict  living,  that  in  the  his 
tory  of  language  the  term  "  libertine  "  was  first  applied 
to  lax  or  sceptical  speculations,  but  came,  in  process  of 
time,  to  signify  corrupt  morals.  It  will  be  only  an  irre 
ligious  liberality  that  argues  for  charity  by  striking  out 
the  pillars  of  faith ;  which  would  be  to  the  contentious 
sects  in  the  Church  much  like  producing  harmony  among 
the  angry  inmates  of  a  house  by  tearing  away  the  foun 
dation. 

And  yet,  that  these  contentious  sects  be  pacified,  the 
growing  Christian  consciousness  of  the  age  feels  to  be 
one  of  the  very  foremost  wants  of  the  Church.  The  time 
has  come,  and  is  coming  more  perfectly  each  day,  when 
the  extinction  of  sectarian  bigotry  and  intolerance  is  made 
necessary,  not  only  to  the  practical  power  and  consistency 
of  the  Christian  religion  itself,  but  to  the  satisfaction  of 
Christian  men  as  they  are.  Your  own  title  and  schedule 
as  an  association  give  an  intimation  that  you  have  caught 
the  foreshining  of  that  day-spring ;  and,  as  if  you  recog 
nized  this  as  among  the  chief  desiderata  in  rational  piety, 
you  have  called  yourselves  a  Christian  Union. 

The  pressing  question,  now,  therefore,  respects  the 
mode  of  this  Union,  or  how  a  better  state  of  mutual  for 
bearance  is  to  be  brought  about.  Not,  in  the  name  of 
all  that  is  natural,  in  the  first  place,  by  any  sacrifice  of 
convictions.  We  must  not  think  to  heal  our  quarrels  by 
crucifying  our  Lord.  Obtain  uniformity  by  the  least 
abandonment  of  doctrines  which  you  really  believe,  and 
it  is  a  uniformity  not  worth  having;  it  is  a  league  of 
death ;  you  have  destroyed  the  greater  for  the  less.  The 
truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus,  first;  then  the  "seeing  eye  to  eye." 
The  Unitarian  cannot  say  to  the  Trinitarian,  "  Give  up 


THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL.  391 

your  faith  in  Christ's  absolute  Deity,  and  I  will  give  up 
my  faith  in  man's  natural  purity ;  and  then  come,  and 
let  us  agree."  The  Protestant  cannot  say  to  the  Roman 
ist,  "  Try  to  stretch  your  belief  so  as  to  embrace  a  half  of 
the  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith,  and  I  will  try  to 
stretch  mine  so  as  to  take  in  half  of  your  absolution  by 
sacraments ;  and  so  we  will ,  be  brethren."  All  this,  in 
every  degree  of  it,  is  artificial,  false,  infidel.  It  is  palter 
ing  with  the  most  sacred  verities,  and  a  denial  of  the  ever 
lasting  fact.  Systems  of  theology  are  not  to  be  patched 
and  accommodated,  like  blocks  of  wood,  by  paring  off 
here,  and  adding  on  there  ;  raising  one  side,  and  lower 
ing  another.  Every  honest  spirit  revolts  instantly  at  the 
bare  conception,  and  there  is  no  need  to  argue  upon  it. 
If  unity  could  come  only  in  that  compromising  way, 
every  believing  man  would  cry  out,  "  Then,  in  Christ's 
name,  let  the  Church  stand  split  to  the  end  of  days,  and 
the  Saviour's  prayer,  6  that  they  all  may  be  one,'  be  un 
fulfilled  for  ever." 

At  the  extreme  opposite  to  this  mistake  is  the  more 
common  one,  held  by  each  of  the  sects,  that,  whenever 
the  present  religious  hostilities  cease,  that  event  will  be 
due  to  the  perfect  and  universal  triumph  of  its  own 
creed ;  the  world  swinging  round  exactly  on  to  its  own 
platform.  This  notion  seems  as  contracted  as  the  other 
one  was  lax.  It  is  undoubtedly  true,  that  to  himself 
every  man's  convictions  must  for  the  present  appear  to 
be  right ;  otherwise  they  are  no  longer  convictions.  The 
moment  he  ceases  to  have  faith  in  his  views,  he  must 
dismiss  them,  or  hold  them  in  suspense  ;  and  in  his 
efforts  to  spread  or  propagate  the  Gospel,  he  must  seek  to 
propagate  his  own  view  of  what  the  Gospel  is,  and  not 
another  man's  ;  that  is,  what  is  truth  to  him.  So,  in  shap- 


392  THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL. 

ing  to  himself  an  idea  of  the  perfect  doctrine  that  will 
organize  a  united  church,  he  cannot  distinctly  conceive 
what  other  it  shall  be  than  the  one  he  now  believes  to  be 
true.  All  these  are  plain  propositions.  But  this,  surely, 
is  not  the  same  as  his  saying  that  God  cannot,  or  will 
not,  disclose  to  another  age  what  he  has  hidden  from 
this.  You  can  be  sincere  and  consistent  in  your  own 
belief,  without  denying  human  progression.  You  can 
suppose  the  faith  of  the  future  will,  in  many  things, 
differ  from  your  own,  and  yet  be  true,  though  you  cannot 
distinctly  conceive  how.  Of  course,  nothing  is  plainer 
than  that  this  hope,  on  the  part  of  the  sects,  each  one  by 
itself,  that  its  own  precise  creed  shall  finally  prevail,  to 
the  total  overthrow  of  all  the  rest,  must  be  futile  ;  for,  of 
fifty  different  things,  each  one  cannot  be  substituted  for 
all  the  rest  at  the  same  time.  Ought  not  the  absurdity 
of  this  expectation  to  teach  us  denominational  modesty, 
—  teach  us  to  be  less  confident  and  dogmatical  as  to 
those  tenets  wherein  we  differ,  —  teach  us  to  hold  a  less 
repellent  attitude  towards  each  other,  as  to  all  the  less 
essential  peculiarities  of  form,  polity,  and  mere  intellect 
ual  opinions  ? 

Essential,  —  that  is  the  word  on  which  all  hinges. 
Something  is  essential.  Suppose  now  that,  ceasing  to 
look  at  one  another,  to  compare  themselves  with  one 
another,  to  criticise  one  another,  and  to  contend  with 
one  another,  the  sects  turn  and  look  only  to  Him  who  is 
the  acknowledged  Head  of  all.  Suppose  they  should 
become  so  intent  in  their  personal  affection  and  devotion 
to  him,  as  to  pass  over  their  various  interpretations  of 
terms  without  dispute ;  so  devoutly  grateful  to  see  the 
Father  thus  manifested  in  the  flesh,  as  to  lose  their  in 
terest  in  wordy  controversies  ;  so  ardent  in  their  worship, 


THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL.  393 

as  to  be  raised  out  of  concern  for  sectarian  numbers ;  so 
absorbed  in  the  deep  conviction  of  unworthiness,  while 
they  look  on  the  moving  spectacle  of  the  cross,  and 
see  a  pure  Redeemer  suffering  to  reconcile  them  to  the 
Heaven  they  have  deserted,  as  to  forget  the  poor  interests 
of  party  pride,  —  then  would  it  not  begin  to  be  clear  as 
noon  to  them  all,  just  as  far  as  they  should  do  this,  what 
the  essential  is  ?  "  Be  ye  reconciled  to  God  "  :  that  is 
the  essential.  Put  this  state  of  coldness,  of  indifference, 
of  spiritual  torpor  and  carelessness,  or  of  positive  alien 
ation  between  yourself  and  him,  —  put  it  to  an  end. 
Come  into  a  free  and  peaceful  harmony  of  will  with 
him.  Let  penitence  win  his  forgiveness  ;  let  confession 
secure  his  favor  ;  let  prayers  —  such  prayers  as  swell  and 
move  the  whole  heart  —  scatter  your  doubts;  let  faith 
give  you  constancy,  and  practical  righteousness  place 
your  feet  on  solid  rock.  All  this  is  of  the  heart,  not  of 
the  brain.  It  comes  by  way  of  the  conscience  and  affec 
tions,  not  by  outward  form  or  creed.  It  is  a  personal 
experience,  and  not  a  sectarian  calculation.  Believers 
will  be  reconciled  to  one  another  just  so  fast  and  so  far 
as  they  will  heed  Paul's  entreaty,  beseeching  them  in 
Christ's  stead  to  be  first  reconciled  to  God. 

You  will  see,  from  this  exposition,  that  I  look  for  the 
Christian  concord,  of  which  I  have  spoken  as  an  object 
very  precious  to  good  men's  hopes,  not  as  coming  by  the 
neglect  of  Christ's  doctrine,  nor  by  dogmatic  obstinacy ; 
not  by  paring  down  creeds  to  make  them  fit,  nor  by  one 
sect  overriding  and  swallowing  all  others  ;  but  by  going 
down  so  deep  into  all  the  affecting  and  powerful  realities 
belonging  to  the  soul's  reconciliation  to  God  in  Christ 
Jesus,  that  every  earnest  believer's  heart  shall  be  found 
meeting  its  fellow  there,  all  beating  in  friendly  unison, 


394  THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL. 

and  all  resting  in  the  Divine  Love.  Or,  to  vary  the 
image,  Christian  unity  is  to  come,  not  by  attempts  to 
concoct  a  mental  conformity  with  ingenious  contrivance, 
working  on  a  human  level;  but  by  letting  the  soul  be 
taken  up  into  that  lofty  region  of  warm  devotion,  of  holy 
trust,  of  heavenly  communion,  where  it  loses  sight  of  the 
little  boundary  lines  that  mark  off  sect  from  sect ;  and 
where  it  forgets  alienations  by  ascending  far  above  them 
towards  the  peace  of  God.  u  If  ye  then,"  says  the  grand 
exhortation  of  the  Apostle,  —  "  if  ye  then  be  risen  with 
Christ,  seek  those  things  which  are  above,  where  Christ 
sitteth  on  the  right  hand  of  God.  For  your  life  is  hid 
with  Christ  in  God." 

Nothing  is  plainer  in  prophecy,  than  that  each  of  the 
existing  sects  has,  in  its  form  of  faith,  some  element  to 
contribute  to  that  Perfect  Church,  or  visible  Body  of 
Christ,  which  the  future  is  to  realize.  It  is  very  impres 
sive,  and  it  ought  to  inspire  us  with  reverence  for  the 
methods  of  the  Divine  Providence,  to  see  how  every 
separate  denomination  is  thus  put  out  to  school  by  itself, 
fashioned  into  a  peculiar  form,  nurtured  to  a  peculiar 
life,  qualified  for  a  peculiar  task ;  and  then,  when  their 
several  ideas  are  developed,  how  they  are  to  be  brought 
together  by  the  attractions  of  the  Spirit,  and  their  dis 
tinctive  qualities  melted  into  one  homogeneous  whole. 
We  stand  at  the  preparatory  or  transition  point,  in  this 
process.  Protestantism  has  broken  up  the  old  false  and 
formal  unity,  where  the  letter  had  overborne  the  spirit, 
and  has  installed  the  new  state  of  divided  parties,  —  a 
necessary  stage  on  the  way  to  final  peace  and  purity. 
For,  remember,  purity  is  as  precious  to  God  as  peace. 
There  is  a  false  kind  of  peace  ;  such  as  was  before 
Luther,  —  the  peace  of  absolutism  and  tyranny ;  such 


THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL.  395 

as  may  be  again,  —  the  peace  of  worldly  stagnation  and 
religious  unconcern.  The  only  union  that  can  satisfy 
the  Almighty,  or  bless  mankind,  is  where  peace  stands 
in  agreement  with  wholesome  activity  of  mind,  a  ruling 
love  of  truth,  and  holiness  of  life.  It  is  to  accomplish 
that,  that  we  are  passed  through  all  this  stir  of  inquiry 
and  agitation  of  opinions,  incidental  to  a  Protestant  age. 
What  it  most  concerns  us  to  observe,  while  in  it,  is  not 
to  let  difference  pass  into  hostility,  variety  run  into  sec 
tarianism,  individuality  shrivel  into  dogmatism,  and  com 
parisons  of  doctrine  be  deformed  by  a  dishonorable  pros- 
elytism,  or  a  wicked  intolerance.  And  equally  does  it 
concern  us  not  to  continue  divided  after  the  time  has 
fairly  come  for  us  to  be  one,  nor  maintain  opposing  or 
ganizations  when  their  providential  function  has  ceased, 
and  their  historical  significance  been  taken  up  into  a 
more  comprehensive  order.  This  will  be  our  danger, 
just  as  far  as  we  scorn  any  indications  of  a  growing 
religious  harmony,  or  persist  in  pushing  party  projects 
when  it  is  plain  we  can  render  God  better  service  by  act 
ing  just  as  if  parties  were  abolished,  or  had  never  been. 

You  all  know  that,  a  few  years  ago,  certain  patriotic 
venerators  of  the  majestic  character  of  Washington  de 
vised  a  new  offering  to  his  greatness,  in  a  national  monu 
ment,  to  be  composed,  in  part,  of  stones  contributed  by 
the  several  States  of  the  Union  which  his  wisdom  and 
heroism  founded.  These  several  communities  have 
brought  their  blocks  to  that  grand  pile,  each  carving 
some  inscription  befitting  its  own  history  or  genius,  or 
expressing  the  dominant  local  sentiment.  On  the  faces 
of  these  tablets,  products  of  quarries  scattered  over  a 
country  so  broad,  the  eye  of  the  future  will  read  the 
characters  of  those  ideas  which  the  discipline  of  Ameri- 


396  THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL. 

can  history  has  wrought  into  the  minds  of  the  people, 
their  copy  stamped  on  these  durable  pages,  dedicated  to 
the  common  founder  and  leader.  But  the  best  monu 
ment  of  our  divine  deliverance  is  the  body  of  living  dis 
ciples.  Ages  are  its  builders.  Faith  is  its  corner-stone. 
Love  is  the  artist  that  shapes  its  symmetry,  and  forms 
the  unity  of  the  design.  For  that  "  growing  temple,"  as 
the  Apostle  fitly  calls  it,  every  sincere  and  thoughtful  sect 
brings  in  its  hands  some  needed  contribution,  the  result 
of  its  own  single  experience,  carved  with  a  thought 
which  nothing  but  the  wisdom  born  of  its  own  special 
life  could  have  inspired.  And,  as  even  the  savage  In 
dian  hordes,  whose  only  blessing  from  this  new  civiliza 
tion  has  been  exile,  oppression,  and  temptation,  with  a 
touching  forgiveness  quite  redeeming  in  their  barbarian 
natures,  have  added  in  their  votive  stone  to  commemo 
rate  the  political  father  of  the  nation  ;  so,  I  cannot  help 
believing,  those  persecuted  and  outcast  tribes  of  heathens, 
whom  Pharisaic  judgments  now  rank  as  beyond  the  pale 
of  the  circumcision,  will  be  found  at  last  to  deliver  in 
some  tribute,  more  acceptable  than  that  of  the  Pharisees 
themselves,  to  the  Building  of  the  impartial  Lord,  in 
whom  there  is  neither  circumcision  nor  uncircumcision, 
barbarian  nor  Scythian,  bond  nor  free. 

America  was  not  discovered  to  be  merely  a  magnifi 
cent  workshop  for  enterprise,  nor  a  camp  for  political 
parties,  nor  even  a  theatre  for  the  play  of  civil  liberty. 
God  meant  it  for  a  nursery  of  believing  and  valiant  souls, 
—  the  home  of  a  sacred  brotherhood,  —  a  church  of  his 
living  praise.  It  becomes  us  to  see  to  it,  so  far  as  our 
individual  life  and  confession  will  achieve  or  further  it, 
that  here  his  pure  word  and  will  shall  have  free  course, 
run,  and  be  glorified. 


THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL.  397 

There  is  a  deeper  wisdom  awaiting  the  unfolding  of 
God's  plans  than  has  yet  got  itself  taught  in  our  univer 
sities  ;  a  more  perfect  social  order  than  is  commanded 
by  any  statute-book,  or  enforced  by  any  government ;  a 
truer  theology  than  is  written  in  any  creed  or  catechism. 
It  is  well  to  live  and  labor  under  these  cheerful  expecta 
tions  ;  for  we  shall  live  more  effectually,  and  labor  more 
faithfully.  But,  after  all,  for  each  single  soul  the  work 
of  life  lies  not  on  any  public  sphere,  nor  amid  great  pub 
lic  problems,  but  in  a  smaller  lot.  To  stand  diligent  and 
trustful  in  that  lot,  is  what  God  asks.  To  work  out  the 
salvation  of  one  penitent  and  fallible  spirit,  is  our  ap 
pointed  task.  And  the  only  way  whereby  we  can  ren 
der  any  worthy  service  to  the  Church,  or  the  world,  is  by 
first  yielding  to  the  entreaty  of  the  Gospel,  and  being 
personally  reconciled  to  God. 

Here,  then,  would  seem  to  be  the  outlines  of  a  religion, 
which,  being  revealed  from  above  nature,  as  nature  looks  to 
us,  is  yet  perfectly  and  beautifully  accordant  with  nature 
in  its  workings  among  men,  divinely  suited  to  the  sphere 
where  it  is  to  win  its  triumphs  ;  —  a  religion  natural  in 
these  essential  attributes  of  nature :  1.  That  it  harmo 
nizes  with  all  the  lofty  and  pure  natural  sentiments  of 
humanity,  —  as  love,  gratitude,  zeal,  decision,  tender 
ness,  courage,  self-denial ;  2.  That  it  is  consistent  in  its 
manifestations  ;  3.  That  it  acts  from  within  outward,  — • 
that  is,  from  an  inward  force  or  faith  into  visible  fruits, 
or  righteousness ;  and  4.  That  it  fits  the  facts  of  expe 
rience,  from  sin  and  its  misery  up  to  reconciliation  and 
its  peace  ;  —  a  religion  at  once  profound  and  practical, 
contemplative  and  enterprising ;  affectionate  as  a  moth 
er,  and  inflexible  as  justice  ;  tender  as  John,  and  bold  as 

34 


398  THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL. 

Paul ;  solemn  as  the  stars,  and  cheerful  as  the  sunrise ; 
awful  as  the  midnight,  and  frank  as  the  day ;  one  with 
the  innocent  joy  of  children,  stretching  their  arms  to  the 
future  ;  one  with  the  sober  conflicts  of  manhood,  wrest 
ling  with  the  present ;  one  with  the  calm  rest  of  age, 
waiting  between  its  little  yesterday  and  its  infinite  to 
morrow  ;  —  a  religion  at  once  beneficent  and  prayer 
ful,  watching  at  Gethsemane,  feeding  the  famished  in 
Galilee. 

Come,  then,  men  of  a  strong  heart,  in  the  power  of  a 
religion  like  this,  come  to  the  healing  and  purifying  of 
our  social  state  !  Begin  here,  and  set  this  city  of  Puritan 
piety  once  more  on  a  hill,  a  flaming  beacon  of  holy  light. 
Let  not  sloth,  cowardice,  compliance  with  the  effeminate 
fashions  of  the  world,  and  inconstancy,  too  ready  to 
falter  and  look  back,  lay  waste  the  vineyard  of  the  Lord, 
and,  while  New  England,  the  American  Israel,  peoples 
the  continent,  make  her  heart  sick ! 

More  than  this,  make  your  Christianity  aggressive  ; 
crowd  it  up  into  the  seats  of  spiritual  wickedness  in  high 
places,  the  encampments  of  the  rulers  of  the  world's 
darkness ;  press  it  down  into  the  kennels  of  sottish  deg 
radation.  Cast  yourselves  into  these  exhilarating  tasks 
of  Christian  renewal.  Unless  our  Christianity  does  this, 
it  is  death-struck  at  the  core.  The  Church  that  stands 
still,  forfeits  its  right  to  be  called  a  church.  "It  is  a 
maxim  of  the  military  art,"  said  the  great  modern  mas 
ter  of  that  art,  "  that  the  army  which  remains  in  its  in- 
trenchments  is  beaten."  If  that  is  orthodoxy  among  the 
armies  of  empires,  it  is  truer  yet  of  the  armies  of  the 
cross.  If  we  stand  still,  we  stagnate.  New  outlays  of 
Christian  heroism  must  widen  the  enclosures  of  the  new 
kingdom.  This  needs  men  such  as  your  Association 


THE    RELIGION    THAT    IS    NATURAL.  399 

ought  to  marshal  and  multiply,  not  to  be  shaken  by  a 
crude  speculation  or  a  sceptic's  sneer. 

My  companions  and  fellow-subjects  under  the  disci 
pline  of  life,  I  have  said  nothing  to  you  in  detail  of  those 
manifold  solicitings  to  sin,  those  trials  of  fire,  besetting 
your  steps  in  the  city,  —  that  raining  shot  of  temptation, 
filling  all  our  city  air,  through  which  your  virtue  must 
pass  and  be  proved,  and  out  of  which  it  is  a  chief  office 
of  this  Christian  Union  to  help  you  to  be  delivered,  with 
your  purity  unspotted.  Those  warnings  are  familiar  to 
you.  You  know  every  one  of  these  siren  seducers  as 
well  at  least  as  I.  You  know  what  prayers  mothers, 
sisters,  loving  kindred,  and  believing  friends,  raise  for 
you  in  quiet  homes.  You  know  what  the  choice  is,  and 
on  which  side  of  it  all  peace  and  strength,  all  order  and 
grandeur,  all  present  and  eternal  welfare,  all  honor  and 
heaven,  stand.  I  have  attempted  to  show  you  the  more 
positive  doctrine  ;  to  exhibit  that  place  of  strength,  where 
the  soul,  once  fixed,  is  almost  beyond  the  reach  of  dan 
ger,  disarming  evil  by  the  breadth  and  intensity  of  its 
convictions  ;  and  to  trace  before  you,  too  feebly  and 
faintly  I  know,  some  outlines  of  that  religion,  at  once 
evangelical  and  rational,  devout  and  practical,  zealous 
and  manly,  centring  in  the  Gospel,  but  spreading  itself 
over  the  life  of  all  men,  all  cities,  all  countries,  all  ages, 
binding  them  into  the  unity  of  one  mighty  Church, — 
which  is  truly  natural,  insomuch  as  it  comes  from  the 
God  whose  nature  has  suited  it  to  ours.  This  might 
rather  anticipate  temptation,  and,  working  within  your 
souls,  a  living  and  honest  faith,  prove  indeed  u  the  vic 
tory  which  overcometh  the  world." 


SERMON    XXIV. 

FOUNDATIONS  OF  A  CHEISTIAN  CITY. 

A  CITIZEN   OF  NO   MEAN   CITY.  —  Acts  XXI.  39. 

A  CITY  WHICH   HATH  FOUNDATIONS.  —  Heb.  xi.  10. 

BY  the  first  of  these  phrases,  Paul  vindicates  the  dig 
nity  of  his  origin,  against  the  contempt  of  the  most  con 
temptuous  of  races,  challenging  a  hearing  before  a  Jewish 
mob.  The  second  is  a  serene  prophecy  of  that  immortal 
and  equal  society,  the  commonwealth  of  justified  spirits, 
gathered  by  the  Redeemer  "  out  of  every  kindred,  and 
tongue,  and  people,  and  nation."  In  the  one,  we  have 
an  instance  of  honorable  municipal  pride,  taking  the 
sanction  of  an  Apostle,  whose  heart,  though  flaming 
with  zeal  for  the  cross,  and  supremely  consecrated  to 
preaching  Christ  and  the  resurrection,  could  yet  make 
room  for  a  human  passion  so  pure.  In  the  other,  we 
find  a  type  of  that  perfect  economy,  whose  citizenship  is 
heavenly,  whose  charter  is  the  infinite  grace,  whose  title 
and  right  of  freedom  is  a  faith  like  the  Patriarch's,  whose 
Builder  and  Maker  is  God. 

To  bring  the  first  of  these  into  unity  with  the  last ;  to 
make  our  patriotism,  or  local  attachment,  consist  with  a 
divine  hope ;  to  conform  our  civil  state  here  to  the  ce 
lestial  pattern,  —  is  at  once  the  highest  scope  of  our  civ 
ilization,  and  the  unyielding  demand  of  our  religion. 


FOUNDATIONS    OF    A    CHRISTIAN    CITY.  401 

That  religion  does  not  scorn  the  sentiment  of  loyalty. 
Paul  —  who  was  no  one-sided  enthusiast,  but  had  pro 
portions  broad  enough  in  the  structure  of  his  manhood  to 
take  in  all  manly  affections,  blending  genial  emotions 
with  inflexible  principles,  and  who  could  harmonize  the 
sagacity  that  knows  how  to  deal  with  nature,  on  its  prac 
tical  side,  with  the  loftiest  spirituality  —  recognized  the 
advantages  of  having  been  born  in  "  no  mean  city."  He 
was  ready  to  assert  that  lawful  claim,  and,  while  a  stran 
ger  at  Jerusalem,  arrested  under  religious  jealousy,  and 
led  off  to  prison  by  a  rough  police,  charged  by  false  ac 
cusations,  was  resolved  to  have  his  share  in  the  good 
repute  of  his  native  town.  He  told  the  chief  captain,  or 
city  marshal,  that  he  was  by  no  means  the  seditious 
Egyptian  he  had  been  taken  for,  —  making  an  uproar,  a 
ringleader  of  murderers,  —  but  a  Hebrew  himself,  of  Tar 
sus,  a  city  of  Cilicia,  "  a  citizen  of  no  mean  city,"  and  so 
entitled  to  an  audience  with  the  people.  His  plea  of  cit 
izenship  served  him ;  and,  standing  on  the  castle-stairs 
for  his  pulpit,  he  snatched  an  occasion  for  his  Master  out 
of  the  very  teeth  of  this  ferocious,  persecuting  Judaism, 
and  opened  the  whole  doctrine  of  his  ministry. 

It  becomes  a  distinct  motive,  then,  for  elevating  the 
character  of  any  community,  or  state,  that,  as  in  this  in 
stance,  such  character  proves  a  protection  to  the  individ 
ual  citizen.  Each  contribution  of  uprightness,  purity, 
fortitude,  or  devotion,  made  to  the  public  stock,  returns 
back  benefits  to  the  social  stockholders,  in  their  private 
emergencies.  Nor  is  that  consideration  wholly  self-inter 
ested  ;  for  it  is  as  natural  to  regard  it  as  affecting  your 
fellow-subjects,  as  your  own  convenience.  Every  day, 
all  over  the  world,  it  is  happening  that  travellers  and  voy 
agers  are  rescued  from  restrictions  on  personal  liberty, 

34* 


402  FOUNDATIONS    OF    A    CHRISTIAN    CITY. 

or  other  detriment,  by  the  political  virtue  of  the  national 
flag ;  and  the  moral  virtue  of  a  local  reputation  is  hardly 
less,  in  furnishing  exemption,  furtherance,  or  some  spe 
cies  of  facility,  quite  independent  on  the  personal  worth 
of  the  recipient.  The  character  of  your  birthplace  and 
residence  is  a  shield  of  slow  construction,  but  ponderous 
when  it  is  once  wrought;  and  every  man  who  derives 
safety  from  its  shelter  should  help  compact  its  strength. 
It  is  only  meanness  and  cowardice  that  will  draw  out  of 
a  common  treasury,  putting  nothing  in. 

It  is,  in  fact,  on  this  principle  —  the  law  of  personal 
relations  to  the  public  weal  —  that  all  national  judg 
ments  come  to  be  held  as  penalties  to  be  warded  off 
possibly  by  private  penitence,  fidelity,  and  prayers.  A 
sharper  perception  of  this  connection,  a  certain  lively 
sense  of  religious  responsibility  running  into  all  collec 
tive  action,  which  their  children  have  partly  lost,  was 
what  instigated  our  fathers  to  isolate  special  occasions 
for  really  deploring  social  sins,  and  supplicating  political 
salvation. 

But  apart  from  the  bare  motive  of  immediate  utility, 
every  right-minded  man  is  bound  to  the  loyal  duties  of 
Christian  citizenship  by  a  constraint,  which,  if  held  to  be 
less  efficient  by  the  estimate  of  a  low  expediency,  be 
cause  it  is  less  involved  in  our  outward  security,  is  none 
the  less  sacred  in  its  authority,  and  of  a  loftier  nature. 
I  mean  the  obligation  laid  on  us  to  build  our  public  mo 
rality  up,  according  to  our  inbred  conception  of  what  a 
Christian  community  ought  to  be,  —  and  because  we  have 
that  conception,  —  the  dowry  of  the  Christian  ages ;  our 
obligation  to  shape  our  actual  society,  and  its  institu 
tions,  by  the  configurations  of  that  ideal,  whose  outlines 
and  plan  are  drawn  in  the  Gospel,  —  to  fashion  our  own 


FOUNDATIONS    OF    A    CHRISTIAN    CITY.  403 

earthly  city  into  the  nearest  possible  resemblance  to  that 
city  that  hath  foundations,  not  built  with  hands. 

My  subject,  therefore,  is  the  Foundations  of  a  Chris 
tian  City.  It  will  be  natural  if,  in  treating  it,  I  shall 
make  special  reference  to  this  city  of  Boston  we  are  in. 

I.  I  speak,  you  will  see,  of  foundations  that  are  mor 
al,  —  not  material,  not  commercial,  nor  industrial.  The 
first  of  these  moral  foundations  is  Domestic  Purity ;  and 
the  institution  representing  it  is  the  Family.  Two  re 
flecting  persons  were  asked  to  give  extempore  definitions 
of  the  idea  of  family.  One  called  it  "  an  item  of  a  poor 
nation's  wealth,  and  of  a  rich  nation's  poverty."  The 
other  called  it  "  matrimony  doing  penance."  Both  an 
swers  suggest  how  far  our  best  communities  are  from 
realizing,  at  large,  the  exalted  conception  of  what  a  Chris 
tian  home  should  be.  It  is  sad  to  think  how  few  steps 
we  should  need  to  take  in  any  street,  to  find  some  dreary 
confirmation  of  that  witty  satire  on  heartless  marriage,  — 
"  Going  home  by  daylight,  after  courtship's  masquerade." 
Men  and  women  do  not  enter  into  wedlock  as  if  they 
were  entering  a  sanctuary ;  yet  no  temple  is  so  sacred. 

Outside  of  cities,  the  idea  of  family  has  external  sup 
ports,  —  separated  domiciles,  —  some  space  put  between 
every  household  and  the  next.  Neighborhood  does  not 
there  mean  contact  and  attrition.  The  awful  sublimity 
of  an  infinite  sky  comes  down  between  the  dwellings. 
The  local  distinctness  is  a  symbol  of  the  social.  Fami 
lies  come  to  have  more  marked  characteristics,  and  grow 
into  more  decided  forms  of  character.  The  storm  and 
the  winter,  binding  them  together  in  a  more  vivid  sense 
of  segregation  from  the  rest  of  the  world,  render  them 
conscious  of  mutual  dependence.  But  the  city  huddles 


404  FOUNDATIONS    OF    A    CHRISTIAN    CITY. 

individualities  as  it  does  houses.  It  ranges  buildings 
into  blocks,  and  characters  into  ranks  of  imitators,  and 
disperses  kindred  into  a  crowd.  There  are  advantages  in 
this,  and  disadvantages.  But  it  does  not  tend  to  nour 
ish  souls  of  strong  personal  will,  nor  independence  of 
judgment,  nor  that  equipoise  of  original  faculties,  care 
less  of  the  verdict  of  surrounding  fashions,  which,  in 
town  and  village  alike,  is  an  attribute  of  every  valiant 
and  effective  mind. 

The  danger  suggests  the  caution.  As  fast  as  we  lose 
the  reserve  and  retirement  of  a  true  domestic  habit,  we 
lose  purity  and  power ;  and  so  we  weaken  the  founda 
tions  of  the  city.  How  much  affectionate  preference  for 
the  evening  circle  over  the  excitement  abroad,  —  so  much 
inward  strength.  How  much  choice  of  that  calmer  and 
familiar  communion  between  brothers  and  sisters,  —  so 
much  inalienable  resource  and  satisfaction  that  will  sur 
vive  the  fever  of  youth.  How  much  reciprocal  affection 
and  veneration  between  children  that  hasten  home  eagerly 
from  all  the  fascinations  of  company,  and  parents  that  go 
reluctantly  out  from  a  charm  in-doors  which  overmasters 
every  foreign  pleasure,  —  so  much  barrier  built  up  against 
all  the  breaches  of  misfortune,  —  so  much  prepared  soil 
for  the  culture  of  public  and  private  morality.  Parents 
that  forego  mature  tastes  for  the  thoughtful  wisdom 
that  condescends  to  bind  these  amulets  of  home  delight 
about  their  children's  necks,  are  as  much  saviours  of  the 
city  as  they  are  providers  of  their  own  honor  and  joy 
against  age.  Parents  that  teach  their  offspring  to  look 
on  home  as  only  a  dressing-room  for  mixed  society,  —  a 
point  of  convenient  sallying  forth  to  catch  the  afflatus  of 
frivolous  assemblies ;  or  who  turn  their  table-talk  into 
recitations  of  the  scandals  engendered  in  some  vacant 


FOUNDATIONS    OF    A    CHRISTIAN    CITY.  405 

brain,  or  their  parlors  into  a  rendezvous  of  those  falsely 
assorted  platoons  that  somebody  has  described  as  "  the 
sexes'  school  of  mutual  misinstruction,"  a  "  camp  of  mod 
ern  Amazons,"  —  these  are  sowing  for  a  harvest  of  pri 
vate  heart-aches  and  general  decay. 

There  are  other  thoughts.  Home  is  a  foundation  of 
Christian  cities,  because,  if  it  is  what  it  was  meant  to  be, 
it  opposes  the  surest  and  Heaven-appointed  resistance  to 
the  vices  that  dense  populations  encourage.  It  cools  the 
inflammation  of  competitory  hatred.  It  heals  the  dis 
orders  of  prodigals.  It  forestalls  crimes  that  the  law  is 
helpless  to  forbid.  It  opens  Bibles  and  books  that  the 
Bible  has  written.  It  gives  the  key-note  to  refining 
music,  and  from  song  the  transition  is  often  spontaneous 
to  prayers.  It  bolts  out  a  thousand  tempting  imagina 
tions,  and  wards  off,  by  its  chaste  employments,  the 
wanton  possibilities  of  shame,  as  if  they  were  ugly  fables 
of  some  antipodal  tribe.  Build  up  one  Christian  home, 
—  Christian  in  no  forced  nomenclature  of  courtesy,  but 
one  that  Jesus  himself  might  enter  with  the  blessing 
that  visited  Bethany,  —  and  you  lay  a  new  support  un 
der  the  foundations  of  a  Christian  city. 

II.  The  next  great  pillar  of  these  supports  is  Educa 
tion,  and  the  institution  that  represents  it  is  the  School. 
At  this  point  the  city  frequently  takes  its  turn  in  superi 
ority  over  the  village.  Bring  the  stimulus  of  interacting 
intellects  to  bear  on  an  organized  system  of  culture,  and 
you  obtain  a  development  of  mental  activity  that  is  more 
intense,  if  not  so  well  balanced.  If  the  ambition  and 
hurry  of  the  teacher  for  immediate  results  do  not  esteem 
the  compass  of  his  scholar's  attainments  out  of  propor 
tion  to  the  depth  ;  if  rapidity  does  not  displace  care  ;  if 


406  FOUNDATIONS    OF    A    CHRISTIAN    CITY. 

the  mere  projecting  of  ill-assorted  and  ill-combined  infor 
mation  into  the  memory  does  not  create  oblivion  of  that 
assimilating  process  by  which  knowledge  is  taken  up 
into  the  circulations  of  the  heart's  blood,  and  so  converted 
into  wisdom ;  above  all,  if  the  head  does  not  overbear 
the  heart,  so  that  science  displaces  religion,  and  so  that 
the  central,  indwelling,  and  all-encompassing  God  is  for 
gotten  in  a  study  of  the  surface  of  his  creation,  —  then 
the  school  is  indeed  a  nursery  of  the  commonwealth. 
Emphatically  is  it  true  that  the  hearts  of  children  —  so 
tender  to  impression,  yet  so  mighty  in  the  germination  of 
their  energies  —  are  foundations  of  the  city.  Misdirect 
them,  and,  as  with  the  godless  earth  in  the  Psalmist's  pic 
ture,  all  those  foundations  are  shaken  out  of  their  course. 
I  learn  from  authoritative  documents,  that  during  the 
last  year,*  in  this  city,  eleven  hundred  and  ten  juvenile 
criminals  —  offenders  under  age,  of  both  sexes  —  were 
arrested  for  punishment,  —  a  number  more  than  a  third 
larger  than  that  of  the  year  before,  —  and  distributed  to 
their  several  scenes  of  legal  correction,  many  of  which 
ought  in  simpler  truth  to  be  called  seminaries  of  harden 
ing  and  seduction.  It  is  such  statistics  as  these  that 
make  the  yearly  reports  of  the  chief  of  our  police  sound 
like  the  gloomy  bulletins  of  a  helpless  physician,  chron 
icling  the  decline  of  a  constitution  he  cannot  save. 
Why  should  our  system  of  education  be  confined  for  ever 
to  prescribed  methods,  and  to  the  better  provided  classes  ? 
Why  should  not  new  emergencies  and  advancing  thought 
strike  out  new  and  nobler  plans  ?  Why  should  not  facts 
so  terrible  as  these — crying  out  to  us  like  the  very  trum 
pets  of  judgment —  create  schools  for  the  vicious  as  well 
as  schools  for  the  respectable,  — -  for  the  vagrant  as  well 

*  A.  D.  1851. 


FOUNDATIONS    OF    A    CHRISTIAN    CITY.  407 

as  the  domesticated,  —  the  ragged  as  well  as  the  clad  ? 
Tuition  costs  less  than  imprisonment;  but  a  civilized  city 
should  be  ashamed  to  wait  for  that  discovery.  Every 
thieving  boy  and  mendicant  girl  has  a  soul  for  which 
Christ  died.  Do  not  mock  the  Father  of  lights  by  put 
ting  them  into  sunless  dungeons.  The  head  of  the 
municipal  government  said,  not  long  ago,  "  At  the  rate 
with  which  violence  and  crime  have  recently  increased, 
our  jails,  like  our  almshouses,  however  capacious,  will 
be  scarcely  adequate  to  the  imperious  requirements  of 
society."  What  will  be  adequate  ?  Education  will. 
Pour  in  light,  —  Heaven's  inexhaustible  and  ultimately 
effectual  medicine  for  depravity.  Depose  Ignorance,  — 
the  high-priest  in  the  idolatrous  temple  of  sin ;  lead  in 
Truth,  —  the  royal  minister  of  righteousness,  and  "  heir 
apparent  of  all  the  world."  Seven  hundred  thousand 
pupils,  the  missionary  reports  tell  us,  are  under  the 
tuition  of  the  Gospel,  in  heathen  countries.  What  an 
incongruity  that  there  should  be  a  thousand  Pagans  in 
Boston !  That  word  Pagan  reverses  now  its  original 
Latin  meaning.  First  it  signified  the  rude  dwellers  in 
villages.  But  in  the  process  of  centralization  that  goes 
on  in  older  nations,  it  finds  a  fitter  application  in  the 
neglected  hordes  that  wallow  and  prowl  about  the  pur 
lieus  of  great  centres.  Say  nothing  of  the  impossibility, 
or  the  hopelessness,  of  tuition  for  the  degraded.  That 
doubt  has  been  settled  by  practical  demonstrations  in  our 
favor,  in  the  lowest  extremities  of  the  largest  cities.  For 
you  and  me,  the  evening  schools  in  yonder  chapel  ought 
to  have  settled  it.  The  testimony  of  the  faithful  men 
that  have  toiled  in  domestic  missions,  ever  since  their 
foremost  leader  in  Boston,  Dr.  Tuckerman,  twenty-five 
years  ago,  wrote  down  the  now  fulfilled  prophecy, — 


408  FOUNDATIONS    OF    A    CHRISTIAN    CITY. 

that,  with  every  successive  year,  each  minister  serving 
"  in  the  true  spirit  of  that  ministry  would  find  his  soul 
bound  to  it  by  stronger  ties,"  —  all  that  testimony  unites 
to  prove  that  the  vilest  iniquity  and  the  completest 
wretchedness  beget  no  despair  of  human  nature.  After 
Wordsworth  —  with  his  delicate  sensibility  revolting  at 
the  slightest  stain  on  purity,  —  a  soul  of  almost  childlike 
refinement  and  innocence  —  had  returned  to  the  quiet  of 
Rydal  Mount,  from  a  visit  to  the  enormities  and  abuses, 
the  sufferings  and  the  crimes  of  London,  he  recorded  this 
just  conclusion  of  his  unmoved  confidence  in,  God,  and 
in  man  as  God's  child :  — 

"  Neither  vice  nor  guilt, 
Debasement  undergone  by  body  or  mind, 
Nor  all  the  misery  forced  upon  my  sight, 

could  overthrow  my  trust 

In  what  we  may  become." 

"  What  one  is, 

Why  may  not  millions  be  ?     What  bars  are  thrown 
By  nature  in  the  way  of  such  a  hope  ? 
Our  animal  appetites  and  daily  wants,  — 
Are  these  obstructions  insurmountable  ? 
If  not,  then  others  vanish  into  air/' 

Of  knowledge  comes  industry ;  of  the  interpretation 
of  the  divine  laws,  written  all  over  a  radiant  universe, 
from  the  Old  Red-Sandstone  to  Sirius,  —  on  rock  and 
grass-blade  and  shelving  sea-shores,  —  on  soils,  and  the 
structure  of  plants,  and  the  anatomy  of  animals,  and  the 
motion  of  stars,  —  comes  a  wiser  life.  Except  science 
regulates  brute  instincts,  organizes  industry,  and  so  casts 
up  the  highway  of  the  Son  of  Man  into  the  Jerusalem 
of  faith,  the  social  foundations  rot.  Where  there  is  no 
vision  of  truth,  the  people  perish.  Stringent  legislation 
will  not  save  them,  nor  an  imperious  constabulary,  nor  a 
standing  army.  Generate  an  explosive  agent,  like  a 


FOUNDATIONS    OF    A    CHRISTIAN    CITY.  409 

Parisian  rabble's  madness,  inside  a  vessel,  and  clamps  on 
the  exterior  avail  little  to  hold  it  together.  The  human 
will,  perverted  by  an  unreasoning  fury,  is  mightier  than 
all  statute-books,  as  is  proved  by  the  outbreak  of  what 
Mazzini  calls  "  the  great  electric  currents  of  revolution." 
In  the  end,  there  will  be  no  law  but  truth.  Truth  is  to 
be  learned  ;  and  that  learning  is  the  just  creation  of  the 
School. 

III.  From  the  School,  on  to  the  Church,  —  from  Educa 
tion  to  Religion,  the  third  and  chief  foundation  of  the  Chris 
tian  city.  But,  observe,  I  do  not  mean  by  the  Church 
any  inert  or  Pharisaic  body,  looking  on  the  wastes  of 
virtual  atheism  among  us  with  folded  hands,  contenting 
herself  with  a  few  handsome  decencies  of  temple-wor 
ship,  or  a  genteel  routine  of  professions  and  ceremonies 
that  will  not  soil  effeminate  fingers.  I  mean  a  Church  of 
God  and  his  Son ;  and  that  means  a  Church  of  sacrifice 
and  self-renunciation,  —  a  Church  whose  first  law  is 
spiritual  labor,  whose  function  is  conversion,  and  whose 
most  irresistible  impulse  is  aggression  on  the  empire  of 
Satan.  I  mean  a  Church  whose  members  take  Apostles 
for  their  examples,  as  well  in  bold  regenerating  incur 
sions  into  the  Macedonia  of  unbelief,  as  in  quiet  com- 
munings  at  Olivet  and  the  upper  chamber. 

Surely  our  great  seats  of  population  ought  to  be  also 
seats  of  the  vitality  and  energy  of  such  a  living  Church. 
We  want  it  in  America,  and  all  sects  ought  to  be  en 
rolled  in  one  militant  army  to  push  its  peaceful  conquests 
on,  —  their  jealousies  melted  down  in  the  common  heat 
of  a  purpose  so  holy,  and  their  suspicions  scattered  to 
the  winds  by  their  enterprise  in  reclaiming  the  lost,  gath 
ering  outcasts  into  the  fold,  clothing  the  destitute,  and 

35 


410  FOUNDATIONS    OF    A    CHRISTIAN    CITY. 

preaching  the  Gospel  to  the  poor.  It  was  of  such  a 
Church  that  Jesus  announced  himself  the  Head,  when  he 
stood  up  to  read  from  Isaiah's  prophecy  in  the  syna 
gogue  of  Nazareth.  Yet,  in  most  of  the  larger  cities  of 
Christendom  itself,  only  a  fraction  of  the  citizens  ever 
come  within  reach  of  the  Church's  voice.  She  needs, 
herself,  a  fresh  baptism  of  the  spirit  of  consecration  from 
on  high,  fresh  oil  to  refill  her  wasted  lamps,  fresh  con 
versions  to  swell  her  ranks,  and  fresh  love  to  make  her 
whole.  And,  "  inasmuch  as  the  apostates  of  Chorazin 
are  more  incorrigible  than  the  impenitent  of  Tyre,"  she 
needs  these  new  supplies  even  more  for  making  Chris 
tianity  evangelical  and  operative  among  the  wayward 
captives  of  Mammon  and  sense  in  our  prosperous  capi 
tals,  than  in  Burmah  or  Koordistan. 

At  one  extreme  of  our  vulgar  competitors  for  comfort 
stand  the  besotted  rich,  as  far  from  the  kingdom  of 
Heaven  as  the  needle's  eye  from  stretching  to  the  com 
pass  of  the  camel,  neither  entering  it  themselves,  nor 
suffering  those  that  are  entering  to  go  in.  At  the  other 
end,  the  victims  of  this  pride,  or  of  their  own  sottish  pas 
sions,  or  of  malicious  and  radical  despair,  chafing  at 
all  that  is  wholesome,  and  defiling  all  that  is  holy.  At 
both  extremes  riot  those  identical  sins  that  bind  the  rich 
profligate  and  the  poor  in  a  degrading  kinsmanship,  — 
intemperance,  lust,  and  sloth.  One  street  alone  in  this 
city,  last  year,  yielded  to  your  grand  jury  two  hundred 
and  five  complaints,  for  violations  of  peace,  for  Sabbath 
disorders,  for  the  dissipation  of  lewd  cellars  and  tippling- 
shops,  and  the  whole  brood  of  petty  and  aggravated 
crimes  that  nestle  in  these  kennels  of  filth  and  guilt. 
Why  has  not  Christ's  Church  a  missionary  for  every 
hovel,  —  a  patient  compassion  to  lead  every  child,  clothed 


FOUNDATIONS    OF    A    CHRISTIAN    CITY.  411 

.  and  loved,  to  worship  ?  Modern  sanitary  ideas  wisely 
forbid  burials  of  the  dead  within  municipal  limits,  ex 
cluding  that  corruption.  Looking  as  God  looks,  it  is 
a  far  more  fatal  forbearance  that  leaves  the  pestilent 
breath  of  this  moral  death,  with  vents  at  every  corner,  to 
poison  the  living. 

While  we  lay  the  foundations  of  religion  deeper,  in 
filled  and  faithful  churches  of  the  better-provided,  in 
consistent  lives  and  a  reverential  habit  of  devotion,  let 
some  missionary  ardor  reclaim,  if  possible,  —  and  God 
has  made  it  possible,  — the  perishing  aliens.  By  our  es 
tablished  institutions,  needing  only  the  infusion  of  warmer 
zeal  from  our  personal  will,  —  our  Provident  Associa 
tions,  and  Ministry  at  Large,  and  Children's  Mission,  — 
let  us  make  our  convictions  more  aggressive,  our  sin 
cerity  more  unquestionable.  If  we  were  to  name  the 
man  who,  in  the  conditions  of  modern  society,  more  ex 
pressly  and  literally  reproduces  the  outward  work  of 
Christ  and  his  first  disciples  than  any  other,  would  it  not 
be  the  missionary  to  the  poor  in  our  cities  ?  How  shall 
he  go,  except  he  is  sent,  or  work,  unless  he  is  fed  ?  If 
you  shrink  from  his  tasks,  has  all  your  due  been  given  to 
sustain  his  willingness  ?  Your  municipal  government 
and  your  police-officers  save  dollars.  The  religion  of 
Christ  saves  two  wherever  these  save  one ;  but  it  also 
saves  what  dollars  cannot  buy ;  for  it  casts  into  the 
world's  sick  life  that  spiritual  medicament  that  cleanses 
its  leprosy.  It  is  an  alchemy  that  impoverishes  by  com 
parison  all  the  mines  and  money-mints  of  the  nations.  It 
holds  open  the  door  of  access  into  heaven.  It  nourishes 
the  communion  between  all  burdened  and  penitent  spir 
its  and  the  Father,  through  the  Mediator.  It  lays  the 
easy  yoke  and  the  light  burden  on  the  grateful  disciple. 


412  FOUNDATIONS    OF    A    CHRISTIAN    CITY. 

It  brings  down  beams  of  forgiveness,  to  brighten  the  lot 
of  suffering,  to  bow  the  pride  of  station,  to  soften  stony 
avarice.  It  makes  mankind  one,  in  their  Lord.  And 
so  the  Church  is  the  mightiest  and  the  deepest  of  all 
foundations  of  the  Christian  city. 

The  continual  sophistry  of  our  metropolitan  habits,  my 
friends,  is  to  arrest  the  gaze  of  self-examination,  to  stop  all 
insight  with  the  surface,  to  cheat  us  out  of  all  profounder 
spiritual  meditation,  and  to  bend  every  fact  to  the  stand 
ard  of  immediate  and  outward  effects.  There  are  things 
in  the  city,  solemn  verities  and  a  spiritual  Presence,  that 
no  census  can  reckon.  So  many  objects  arrest  the  eye 
close  at  hand,  so  many  voices  call,  and  bribes  clink,  and 
flatteries  dazzle,  so  many  prizes  of  fortune  glitter  on  all 
the  way-sides,  that  we  cannot  afford  time  to  go  up  into 
the  still  watch-towers,  and  take  the  telescope  of  faith, 
and  hold  commerce  with  the  everlasting  lights  and 
oceans !  O  how  weh1  for  us,  immortal  spirits,  if  we 
would !  How  else  shall  we  ever  comprehend  our  heirship 
in  the  kingdom  of  Heaven  ?  To  adopt  a  paradox  of  the 
Apostle,  we  need  to  look  more  at  what  we  cannot  see. 
We  want  a  stronger  faith  in  things  that  lie  out  of  the 
range  of  our  touch,  and  deeper  than  the  plane  of  our  fri 
volity.  We  want  an  affection,  —  not  merely  a  fanciful 
sentiment,  but  a  hearty  and  constraining  affection,  for 
those  lowly  traits  of  humanity,  and  those  invisible  fellow 
ships  with  the  divinity,  which  are  the  under-currents  of 
all  our  better  lives,  and  are  the  arteries  that  join  us  to 
Christ,  making  us  one  in  the  body  of  his  Church. 

You  have,  traversing  all  the  streets  and  squares  of 
your  metropolis,  in  dark  passages  under  ground,  the  con 
duits  that  bring  in  country  waters,  to  cool  your  thirst 
and  purify  your  dwellings.  These  streams  are  silent  and 


FOUNDATIONS    OF    A    CHRISTIAN    CITY.  413 

hidden ;  but  they  flow  none  the  less  constantly,  in  obedi 
ence  to  the  skill  of  science,  and  the  bubbling  supply  is  a 
manifest,  daily  benediction  upspringing  in  your  houses. 
These  hollow  pipes  beneath  lie  among  the  "foundations" 
of  the  city's  welfare.  So  ought  to  run,  in  many  secret 
channels,  noiseless  to  the  ear,  but  mighty  in  their  final 
good,  the  benignant  currents  of  love  and  faith.  "  There 
is  a  river,  the  streams  whereof  shall  make  glad  the  city 
of  our  God"  ;  and  these  are  its  streams,  —  the  love  and 
faith  of  Christ ;  give  them  access  from  the  fountain  of 
his  heart,  as  you  do  the  lake's  tribute,  and  they  shall 
make  this  your  city,  every  city,  glad,  —  cities  of  our 
God,  —  make  them  whole.  You  know  them  by  the 
glory  of  their  result.  Their  testimony  is  in  the  excellent 
lives  they  nourish.  Their  fruit  is  in  a  polluted  sensuality 
redeemed,  and  a  barren  worldliness  refreshed. 

So  have  you  those  winding  conductors,  also  laid  among 
the  foundations,  which  spread  the  airy  fuel  that  feeds  so 
many  thousand  lamps.  All  their  course  is  hid,  and  never 
so  much  forgotten  as  at  noonday ;  but  when  night  falls, 
the  dull  rods  are  tipped  with  innumerable  tongues  of 
flame,  and  the  city  blazes  with  a  radiance  that  almost 
counterfeits  the  sun.  The  years  will  come,  I  think, 
when  we  shall  lay  as  carefully,  and  at  as  cheerful  a  cost, 
those  trains  of  beneficent  design  that  shall  illumine  be 
nighted  minds,  and  cheer  the  whole  air  with  hope. 

I  was  shown,  a  few  days  since,  that  complicated  con 
trivance  of  mechanism  and  genius,  the  municipal  electric 
telegraph,  applying  the  grand  wonder-working  agency  of 
our  time  to  the  communication  of  alarms  of  fire.  This 
wirework  woven  over  our  heads,  like  a  dry  organization 
of  pure  nerves,  without  body,  blood,  or  bones,  intercepting 
no  light  or  rain,  or  splendor  of  the  sky,  the  talking  appa- 

35* 


414  FOUNDATIONS    OF    A    CHRISTIAN    CITY. 

ratus  of  a  few  distant  watchmen  for  the  safety  of  life  and 
treasure  to  a  careless  or  sleeping  city,  with  the  hammers 
of  church-bells  for  its  tongues,  and  a  thousand  men  to 
start  at  its  summons,  and  a  common  clock  to  tell,  with 
its  hourly  stroke,  the  entire  order  of  the  circuit,  —  all 
seems  to  a  half-initiated  spectator  as  a  sort  of  demiurgic 
miracle,  or  wizard's  spell.  But  it  all  has  its  match  —  and 
more,  has  it  not?  —  in  that  spiritual  marvel,  which  we 
will  not  marvel  at,  —  the  fine  sympathy  that  knits  human 
classes  into  a  brotherhood.  Not  less  quick  than  the  flash 
of  the  fluid  is  the  thrill  of  pity,  or  trust,  or  gratitude,  that 
vibrates  from  one  end  of  the  social  scale  to  the  other. 
Ignore  it  as  we  will,  to  our  injury,  —  deny  it  if  we  will, 
in  some  selfish  mood  of  treachery  to  the  Messiah,  —  God 
has  put  the  same  blood  into  the  veins  of  all  his  children. 
He  has  wrought  our  structures  of  one  fibre,  under  all 
housings,  clothings,  and  complexions.  For  a  millennium, 
or  else  for  a  universal  death-dance  and  reign  of  terrorism, 
as  we  choose,  we  are  all,  my  brothers,  each  other's  keep 
ers.  In  this  our  city,  whether  one  member  suffer,  all  the 
members  suffer  with  it ;  or  one  member  rejoice,  all  the 
members  rejoice  with  it.  Dismiss  from  their  posts  the 
blessed  guardians  that  keep  the  vigils  of  Christian  charity, 
and  the  whole  moral  order  would  explode,  like  a  city  on 
fire,  with  no  concert  for  alarm  and  action.  We  cannot 
be  wholly  segregated,  or  isolated,  or  self-containing,  if  we 
would.  God  has  made  us  of  another  kind  ;  and  Christ 
has  died  for  no  such  race.  East  end  or  west  end,  north  or 
south,  can  no  more  rot  in  atheistic  sloth,  and  the  rest  not 
sooner  or  later  be  convulsed  and  agonized,  than  one  limb 
of  the  body  can  mortify,  and  the  rest  leap  with  healthy  cir 
culations.  Let  us  respect  this  magnetic  law  of  our  life. 
Tarsus,  the  Cilician  city,  standing  by  the  banks  of  the 


FOUNDATIONS    OF    A    CHRISTIAN    CITY.  415 

Cydnus,  a  river  only  two  hundred  feet  broad,  could 
hardly  have  looked  to  the  eye  of  our  admiration  so  im 
pressive  as  it  seemed  to  its  patriotic  son.  For  it  is  said 
of  it  that  the  luxurious  monarch  Sardanapalus  built  it, 
and  another  city  besides,  in  a  single  day.  Only  its  ghost 
remains.  But  even  there,  the  superiority  of  ideas  over 
materials  was  already  illustrated.  It  was  the  learning 
of  the  inhabitants  that  made  it  the  rival  of  Athens 
and  Alexandria.  It  was  the  thoughts  that  had  it  for 
their  birthplace,  that  shed  their  lustre  across  to  Judaea, 
arrested  the  violence  of  the  Hebrew  persecutor,  put  a 
safeguard  round  Paul's  threatened  breast,  and  raised  it 
to  the  honor  of  being  "  no  mean  city."  Its  "  founda 
tion  "  was  its  wisdom,  and  its  glories  were  its  schools. 

Boston,  subscribing  fifty  millions  of  dollars  for  its  own 
investment,  grasps  the  termini  of  three  thousand  miles 
of  railway.  Is  it  a  question  of  no  solemnity,  whether 
the  pupils  it  dismisses  every  evening  from  the  great 
school  of  its  calculations  and  competitions,  to  the  num 
ber  of  not  less  than  forty-two  thousand  souls,  pouring 
them  along  these  radiating  avenues,  and  dropping  them 
at  the  doors  of  all  New  England,  are  really  better  souls, 
or  baser  souls,  for  their  learning  ?  It  exports,  annually, 
ten  millions  of  value.  If  true  to  the  ideas  that  founded 
it,  and  faithful  to  the  trusts  of  Providence,  it  ought  to 
despatch  from  its  bosom,  under  all  those  out-bound  sails, 
an  influence  on  the  world's  life  not  to  be  reckoned  by 
mathematics,  but  by  the  moral  measurements  of  eter 
nity.  It  taxes  property  to  the  amount  of  one  hundred 
and  eighty-seven  millions  of  dollars.  Let  that  all  be 
held  by  the  New  Testament  estimate  of  stewardship  ; 
let  it  be  used  as  the  lending  of  Almighty  love,  to  be  reck 
oned  for,  every  farthing,  to  Almighty  justice  ;  and  would 


416  FOUNDATIONS    OF    A    CHRISTIAN    CITY. 

not  some  greater  benefactions  from  its  bounty  bless  hea 
thendom  and  want,  in  its  own  borders,  and  to  the  utmost 
islands  of  the  sea  ?  It  numbers  a  population  of  one 
hundred  and  thirty-eight  thousand.  What  reason  can 
you  bring,  other  than  the  perversity  of  human  passions, 
and  our  unbelief  in  Christ,  why  these  should  not  be  a 
hundred  and  thirty-eight  thousand  consistent  witnesses 
to  Christian  righteousness  ?  If  a  third  of  that  number 
crawl  yearly  out  of  immigrant  ships,  with  an  imported 
superstition,  and  an  indolence  bred  in  their  bones,  ought 
not  the  chief  city  of  the  Puritans,  with  the  vantage- 
ground  of  a  clean  continent  and  two  centuries  of  provi 
dential  history,  to  have  created  such  an  atmosphere  of 
republican  light  and  virtue,  that  the  immersion  of  Old- 
World  barbarism  itself  should  be  like  a  cleansing  baptism 
into  the  renewing  spirit  of  the  Gospel  ? 

The  true  foundations  of  the  city  —  those  that  most 
resemble  it  to  its  pattern  in  the  skies  —  are  not  its 
breadth  of  acres,  or  the  costliness  of  its  square  feet ;  not 
the  firm  pavements  of  stone,  worn  smooth  with  the  ever 
lasting  beat  of  travel ;  not  the  solid  walls  that  bear  up 
its  ambitious  roofs ;  not  the  lengthening  wharves  that 
welcome  the  merchandise  of  all  coasts,  and  grasp  the 
commerce  of  all  waters  ;  not  the  entries  of  its  custom 
house,  nor  the  splendor  of  its  mansions,  nor  the  sum  of 
its  capital ;  not  any  nor  all  of  these,  though  they  all  may 
be  the  tokens  of  a  righteous  prosperity. 

Those  foundations  are  rather  in  the  mind  and  temper 
of  the  people.  They  are  in  the  virtuous  order,  and  the 
self-controlled  moderation,  and  the  refined  dignity,  of 
your  families.  They  are  in  the  patient  thoroughness, 
the  regular  discipline,  the  wise  forecast,  and  the  religious 
reverence,  of  all  your  systems  of  education.  They  are  in 


FOUNDATIONS    OF    A    CHRISTIAN    CITY.  417 

the  zeal,  the  punctuality,  the  strict  devotion,  and  the 
generous  toleration,  of  your  worship.  They  are  in  the 
abundance  of  your  charities,  the  cordiality  of  your  cour 
tesies,  the  sobriety  of  your  hospitalities,  the  modesty  of 
your  manners,  the  steady  inarch  of  your  industry,  the 
integrity  of  your  traffic,  the  nobleness  of  your  policy,  the 
liberality  of  your  government,  —  the  graces  that  adorn 
your  manhood.  Plant  such  foundations  as  these  ;  lay 
them  deeper  and  surer  every  day  ;  and  you  shall  be 
"  citizens  of  no  mean  city." 

And  though  the  humiliating  conclusion  of  all  our 
proudest  and  most  loyal  meditations  must  be,  to  confess 
that  we  are  pilgrims  and  strangers,  and  have  here  no 
continuing  city,  not  even  the  venerated  tabernacles  of 
the  fathers,  our  Isaac  and  Jacob  ;  yet,  lifting  our  eyes 
heavenward,  we  confidently  seek  one  to  come,  —  a  city 
that  hath  eternal  foundations,  —  the  type  of  these  our 
fairest  cities  on  earth,  —  the  Jerusalem  that  is  above  and 
j  —  the  city  of  the  living  God. 


SERMON  XXV. 

NATIONAL  RETRIBUTION,  AND  THE  NATIONAL  SIN.* 

BECAUSE  SENTENCE  AGAINST  AN  EVIL  WORK  IS  NOT  EXECUTED 
SPEEDILY,  THEREFORE  THE  HEART  OF  THE  SONS  OF  MEN  IS 
FULLY  SET  IN  THEM  TO  DO  EVIL. — Eccl.  viii.  11. 

THIS  annual  Fast  is  rather  a  relic  of  a  past  age,  than 
a  natural  and  vital  expression  of  the  present  one.  For 
better  or  for  worse,  —  some  among  us  say  for  the  better, 
but  I  am  disposed  to  think  rather  for  the  worse,  —  the 
ideas  and  associations,  the  forms  of  thought  and  life, 
which  gave  such  an  anniversary  its  birth,  have  either 
drifted  away,  or  been  essentially  changed.  It  is  evident 
that  the  stated  proclamation  from  the  Executive  for  "  a 
day  of  public  fasting,  humiliation,  and  prayer,"  is  a  doc 
ument  extorted  by  a  decent  respect  for  ancient  usage,  or 
by  a  deference  to  official  routine  easier  to  follow  than  to 
break  through,  rather  than  a  cordial  utterance,  or  even 
echo,  of  a  strong  and  spontaneous  impulse  from  the 
heart  of  the  whole  people.  And,  on  the  other  hand,  as 
we  might  expect,  that  degree  of  reluctant,  languid,  and 
interrupted  observance  which  the  occasion  gets,  is  more 
like  a  hesitating  acquiescence  on  the  part  of  a  few  in  a 

*  Preached  on  Fast  Day,  1851,  soon  after  the  passage,  in  Congress,  of  the 
bill  known  as  the  "  Fugitive  Slave  Law." 


NATIONAL    RETRIBUTION,  AND  THE    NATIONAL    SIN.    419 

custom  to  which  the  consent  of  good  men  has  lent  first  a 
religious  and  then  a  prescriptive  sanction,  than  it  is  like 
the  eager  and  general  homage  of  a  lively  conviction,  or  a 
constraining  emotion.  Our  Fast  serves  as  a  sort  of  spir 
itual  high-water  mark,  to  show  how  far  the  stanch,  self- 
denying  sincerity  of  our  Puritan  ancestors  once  rose,  and 
how  far  the  same  tide,  from  one  cause  or  another,  has 
ebbed  out  in  the  children.  It  stands  as  a  monument, 
graphic  but  awkward  and  funereal,  of  a  state  of  things 
and  a  set  of  feelings  gone  by,  looking  very  much  as  some 
surviving  memorial  of  the  monastic  or  ascetic  period  of 
the  Church  would  look  in  the  midst  of  the  easy  manners 
and  luxurious  indulgences  of  times  that  came  after,  —  a 
hair  shirt,  or  hermit's  girdle,  or  spiked  shoe,  re-appearing 
in  the  wardrobe  of  a  modern  bishop's  palace,  or  an  an- 
chorite's  skull  for  a  memento  mori  in  the  voluptuous  ora 
tory  of  a  fashionable  devotee. 

But  the  observance,  heartless  or  hearty,  common  or 
exceptional,  does  call  to  mind  the  honest,  sterling  virtues 
of  a  race  of  men  that  really  believed  in  God.  There  is 
something  refreshing  in  the  remembrance  that  such  men 
have  lived,  —  men  that  planted  themselves  on  the  everlast 
ing  foundations,  and  stood  there  cheerfully,  come  bland 
ishments  or  come  tortures,  harvest  or  famine,  peace  or  a 
sword ;  men  that,  being  surrounded  by  hollow  artifices 
and  hypocritical  shams,  could  yet  be  simple  and  pure ; 
men  that  saw  down  through  sophistry  to  the  lie  at  the 
bottom  which  the  sophistry  was  put  over,  to  hide  and 
recommend ;  men  who,  in  every  kind  of  perplexity,  threw 
themselves  back  on  the  oracles  of  Scripture  as  if  they 
wTere  walls  of  rock ;  men  that  dared  to  take  all  manner 
of  sin  that  came  in  their  path  by  the  throat  without  fear 
of  being  thrown,  and  could  march  up  to  look  at  death 


420  NATIONAL    RETRIBUTION, 

face  to  face,  without  so  much  as  a  thought  of  running,  if 
conscience  only  went  with  them ;  men  that,  so  far  from 
doubting  that  God's  original  law  is  more  perfect  and 
binding  than  any  legislation  of  his  fallible  creature,  man, 
saw  plainly  —  what  men  of  deep  moral  discernment 
have,  in  fact,  never  failed  to  see  —  that  this  very  alle 
giance  to  a  superior  law  is  the  only  bond  and  safeguard 
of  governments  or  constitutions  which  are  human ;  men 
that  held  no  parley  with  corruption,  made  no  compro 
mise  with  wrong,  took  no  price  for  right ;  men  that  had 
reasons  to  give  for  serving  the  Almighty,  but  would 
take  none  for  serving  the  Devil ;  that  might  be  killed,  but 
never  could  be  seduced ;  and  for  every  threatening  ques 
tion,  from  throne  or  judge's  bench,  in  the  teeth  of  raging 
prelate  or  mighty  monarch,  inquisition  or  scaffold,  an 
swered  with  a  valiant  "  Thus  saith  the  Lord."  If  it  is 
refreshing  to  remember  that  such  men  were,  what  a 
joyful  inspiration  to  know  that  they  were  our  fathers! 
What  a  motive,  tightening  every  sinew  in  our  frame,  to 
prove  ourselves  not  utterly  unworthy,  by  cowardice,  cor 
ruptibility,  and  practical  atheism,  to  be  called  their  chil 
dren  ! 

These  invigorating  recollections,  still  clustering  about 
the  faded  and  decaying  observance  which  they  ordained 
in  earnest,  fitly  lay  open  my  subject,  the  doctrine  of 
which  is  this :  that  the  slowness  of  God's  public  retribu 
tions  never  embarrasses  their  certainty  ;  that  while,  "  be 
cause  sentence  against  an  evil  work  is  not  executed 
speedily,  the  heart  of  the  sons  of  men  is  fully  set  in  them 
to  do  evil,"  that  sentence  is  only  gathering  force,  to  strike 
down  with  more  unerring  aim  and  heavier  penalties,  at 
last.  Let  us  endeavor,  my  friends,  like  fearless  and  can 
did  inquirers,  discharging  ourselves  of  the  transient  pas- 


AND    THE    NATIONAL    SIN.  421 

sions  which  only  becloud  the  moral  vision,  and  rising 
above  the  narrow  issues  which  agitate,  but  do  not 
strengthen,  the  judgment,  to  lay  calm  hold  of  a  principle 
which  reaches  beyond  passing  interests,  embraces  many 
special  examples,  comprehends  the  whole  history  of  hu 
man  society. 

For,  in  fact,  the  simple  conviction  that  men  need  now 
most  of  all,  condensing  as  it  does  all  the  lessons  of 
instructive  experience,  is  this :  that  God  governs  the 
world.  Plans  are  ours,  but  their  prospering  or  over 
throw  is  with  God.  Beginnings  are  ours ;  but  not  the 
end.  Courses  of  life  and  systems  of  policy  that  run  on, 
under  human  guidance,  many  years,  are  brought  up  at 
last  by  a  Providential  catastrophe.  Just  as  they  get 
strong,  and  begin  to  feel  domesticated,  a  subtile  element, 
interfused,  —  no  diplomatist  could  tell  how  or  when,  — 
works  up  and  down  to,  vitiate  their  organization,  rots 
their  fibre,  and  disorders  them  to  death.  Governments, 
founded  by  the  fresh  energies  of  a  colony,  or  the  solemn 
earnestness  of  revolution,  grow  prosperous  only  to  grow 
weak,  take  up  the  seeds  of  decline  along  with  the  juices 
of  health,  and,  finding  their  destiny  means  their  doom,  die 
the  death  of  suicides.  So  that  at  last  we  are  driven  to 
doubt  whether  even  plans,  beginnings,  and  undertakings 
are  ours,  except  by  permission.  The  little  that  mortals 
can  do,  in  building  or  governing,  is  hedged  about  by  the 
checks  and  limitations  of  Omnipotence  ;  and,  if  not  oth 
erwise,  at  least  by  sheer  inability  to  account  for  history 
by  what  we  know,  we  are  driven  to  believe  that  the 
nations  are  judged  by  God,  and  the  earth  dependent  on 
Heaven. 

The  grand  perversity  of  society  and  politics,  from  the 
first,  has  been  in  their  ingenious  devices  for  obscuring 

36 


422  NATIONAL    RETRIBUTION, 

this  fundamental  religious  law ;  a  law  which  in  itself,  by 
its  infallible  accuracy  and  its  inevitable  execution,  suffi 
ciently  proves  the  superiority  of  a  Divine  over  every  hu 
man  law.  From  Assyria  to  Spain,  from  Babylon  to 
Mexico,  from  Hebrew  sedition  to  British  bankruptcy, 
this  has  been  the  inevitable,  mathematical  demonstration, 
which  national  ambition  has  set  itself  to  deny.  Some 
times  by  commerce  and  sometimes  by  war ;  now  by  a 
better  disciplined  defence,  or  a  more  savage  military  drill, 
and  then  by  a  faculty  of  financial  accumulation,  more 
peaceful  perhaps,  but  equally  crafty,  selfish,  and  unscru 
pulous  ;  now  by  comforts  singing  of  security  like  Sirens, 
and  then  by  aggressions  formidable  for  prowess,  —  the 
nations  have  each  promised  themselves  insurance  agains*" 
judgment,  and  played  their  several  games  of  self-perpetu 
ation,  —  relied  on  an  immunity  from  evil,  because  sen 
tence  against  evil  was  not  executed  speedily.  Find  one 
amongst  them  all,  —  one  tribe,  or  country,  or  dynasty,  or 
empire,  —  that  has  not  travelled  to  ruin  as  men  travel  to 
their  graves,  or  else  allow  that  the  rule  is  beyond  dis 
pute. 

It  is  in  the  nature  of  every  public  or  political  sin,  that 
it  must  have  a  double  retribution ;  first,  that  which  falls 
on  the  individual  who  commits  it,  or  is  a  party  to  it; 
and  second,  that  which  undermines  and  destroys  the 
commonwealth  itself.  There  is  a  private  judgment,  and 
a  public  judgment.  The  soul  of  ruler  or  citizen,  law 
maker  and  law-keeper  or  law-breaker,  must  render  up 
the  account  of  its  personal  stewardship ;  and  likewise, 
the  collective  body  called  the  nation,  whose  great  organ 
ized  sin  is  made  up  of  these  personal  contributions,  has 
to  be  reckoned  with,  according  to  the  laws  of  the  Eter 
nal  Providence,  by  its  loss  or  its  progress,  its  ruin  or  its 


AND    THE    NATIONAL    SIN.  423 

glory.  And  how  fearfully  does  it  augment  the  responsi 
bility  of  public  conduct,  that  the  downfall  of  a  nation 
drags  with  it  into  the  common  wreck  such  hosts  of  suf 
ferers,  the  guiltless  with  the  guilty ! 

The  law  of  the  Divine  economy  seeks  out  the  personal 
offender  and  hauls  him  to  the  tribunal,  in  whatever  alli 
ances,  social  combinations,  and  political  fashions  he  may 
screen  himself,  —  showing  that  accountability  is  not  to 
be  put  on  and  taken  off  as  we  go  in  and  out  of  legisla 
tive  halls,  primary  meetings,  corporations,  or  parties  of 
pleasure ;  that  though  the  sinner  may  say  WE,  God's 
law  says  THOU;  that,  "though  hand  join  in  hand,  the 
wicked  shall  not  be  unpunished."  Now,  just  as  certain 
as  this  is,  so  certain  is  the  slow  preparation  of  righteous 
chastisement  for  nations.  If  the  fraudulent  dealer  must 
answer  for  his  deceptions ;  if  he  who  kindles  in  himself 
the  foul  fires  of  lust  must  afterwards  be  steeped  in  the 
fetid  fumes  of  sensuality ;  if  the  unprincipled  worldling 
must  come  abashed  before  the  blaze  of  Christ's  spiritual 
glory ;  so  must  every  country  and  government  that  per 
sists  in  oppression,  in  cruelty,  in  injustice,  in  venality,  in 
refusing  to  hear  the  cry  of  them  that  have  no  helper,  and 
in  clutching  at  extorted  riches,  stand  at  last  before  the 
judgment-seat,  and  be  weighed  in  those  bright  balances 
that  never  rust,  nor  swerve,  nor  break.  "  The  hire  of  the 
laborers  that  have  reaped  down  its  fields  crieth,  and  its 
cry  enters  into  the  ears  of  the  God  of  Sabaoth." 

What  an  eminent  patriot  of  the  Old  World,  himself 
almost  a  martyr  to  liberty,  has  said,  deserves  to  be  con 
sidered,  that  "religious  principle  has  presided  over  two 
thirds  of  the  revolutions  of  single  nations,  and  over  all  the 
great  revolutions  of  humanity."  What  higher  proof  than 
this  fact  need  we,  that  nations  always  stand  before  the 


424  NATIONAL    RETRIBUTION, 

bar  of  Christian  rectitude,  and  that,  though  the  sentence 
be  not  executed  speedily,  yet  equity,  mercy,  and  freedom 
shall  finally  press  down  their  immutable  measure  on 
every  government  under  the  sun  ? 

The  mistake  is,  that  they  who  exercise  the  trusts  and 
enjoy  the  emoluments  of  government  are  too  ready  to 
forget  the  primal  law  in  the  vast  mechanism  and  com 
plicated  distribution  of  power.  In  something  of  the 
impious  spirit,  though  without  the  frank  presumption,  of 
that  arch-prince  of  godless  rulers,  Frederick  the  Great  of 
Prussia,  they  are  ready  to  say,  politically,  "  Religion  of 
some  kind  is  necessary  to  the  well-being  of  a  state,  and 
he  is  not  a  wise  king  who  allows  his  subjects  to  abuse 
it " ;  but  they  also  add,  with  him,  "  Nevertheless,  he  is 
not  a  wise  king  who  allows  himself  to  have  any  religion 
at  all."  Now,  in  a  republic,  those  persons  who  exercise 
the  trusts  of  government,  and  share  the  temptations  of 
rulers,  are  the  citizens.  It  is  they,  therefore,  who  are 
here  tempted  to  great  peril  if  they  forget  the  law  of 
natural  retribution, — they  that  need  to  be  girded  up,  as 
Christian  men,  with  the  faith  that  the  delay  of  that  ret 
ribution  is  never,  and  cannot  be,  because  God's  justice 
sleeps. 

We  commit  a  radical  error,  if  we  imagine  that  national 
retributions  are  always  attested  by  outward  calamity. 
They  are  often  most  actively  at  work  where  no  visible 
disasters  darken  the  sky.  Many  a  nation  has  gone  to 
destruction  with  a  sound  exchequer  and  regiments  full ; 
because  the  surest  perdition  that  can  overtake  a  people 
is  the  deadening  of  its  spiritual  sensibility,  the  blinding 
of  its  sight  for  discerning  between  the  true  and  the  false, 
the  darkening  of  its  inward  light ;  and  "  if  the  light 
that  is  in  thee  be  darkness,  how  great  is  that  darkness." 


AND    THE    NATIONAL    SIN.  425 

This  fearful  process  may  be  going  on,  at  the  core,  while 
all  externally  is  fair  and  flourishing.  Conquest  may  be 
stretching  out  its  arms  to  grasp  unrighteous  gains ;  en 
terprise  may  be  heaping  up  its  treasures  and  strengthen 
ing  its  stakes  at  home ;  fortune  may  be  filling  its  coffers 
and  multiplying  its  bank-vaults ;  traffic  may  be  sliding 
its  merchantmen  from  every  port  into  all  navigable  wa 
ters  ;  the  eyes  of  voluptuous  complacency  may  stand  out 
with  fatness ;  and  yet,  beneath  all  this  prosperous  show 
of  life,  there  shall  be  the  daily  inroads  of  death.  The 
land  may  be  full  of  the  finest  of  the  wheat;  and  yet 
consumption  is  on  those  faculties  which  are  the  vitals 
of  the  soul.  Herein  is  another  working  of  the  everlast 
ing  law.  With  every  wanton  denial  of  our  purer  aspira 
tions,  those  aspirations  themselves  grow  faint.  Resist 
ance  to  our  better  angels  drives  those  angels  away.  If 
we  cast  insults  on  our  power  of  moral  discrimination, 
the  power  itself  will  perish.  No  nation  can  smother, 
whether  in  the  legislative  council,  the  fashions  of  society, 
the  iniquities  of  trade,  or  the  oppressive  enactments  of 
the  statute-book,  those  eternal  sentiments  which  rise 
up  to  bear  their  melancholy  witness,  even  in  debauched 
and  degraded  souls,  without  realizing  in  the  very  act  a 
punishment  infinitely  more  dismal  than  any  defeat  of 
its  armies  or  any  damage  to  the  credit  of  its  treasury. 

This,  I  suppose,  is  the  real  significance  of  those  many 
passages  in  Scripture  where  a  disobedient  people,  reject 
ing  the  guidance  of  the  Almighty  and  quenching  the 
lamps  he  has  lighted  in  the  soul,  is  said  to  have  its 
heart  hardened,  —  to  have  grievous  delusions  sent  upon 
it  that  it  should  believe  a  lie,  —  to  be  "  let  alone,"  like 
Ephraim,  because  it  is  joined  to  idols,  —  to  be  forsaken 
of  the  heavenly  compassion.  Just  in  proportion  to  the 

36* 


426  NATIONAL    RETRIBUTION, 

intensity  of  that  accumulated  light  on  which  we  ob 
stinately  shut  our  eyes  for  the  wages  of  injustice,  is  the 
depth  of  the  damnation  already  preparing  for  us.  The 
cup  is  at  our  lips  ;  and  though  we  do  not  taste  its  bitter 
ness,  it  is  none  the  less  poison  in  our  blood.  If  we 
cover  up  some  avaricious  appetite  under  a  plausible  pre 
tence  of  seeking  the  public  good ;  if  we  plead  for  private 
profit  under  the  sacred  name  of  general  concord  ;  if  we 
apply  handsome  names  to  unseemly  plots,  and  baptize 
a  bargain  with  oppression  as  a  reconciliation  with  alien 
ated  friends ;  if  we  make  ourselves  parties  to  a  syste 
matic  policy  which  is  the  essence  of  all  vices  and  the 
sum  of  all  crimes,  because  we  love  an  unobstructed 
market  better  than  the  rights  of  humanity  or  the  favor 
of  God ;  or  if  we  plead  an  unrighteous  promise  given 
once  as  a  justification  for  perpetual  fraud,  then  are  we 
ourselves  sold  and  bound  slaves  under  sin,  and  though 
the  wheels  of  retribution  seem  to  tarry,  and  sentence 
against  the  evil  work  is  not  executed  speedily,  we  might 
as  well  doubt  our  Maker's  eternity  as  the  prophecy  of 
our  own  perdition. 

Why  will  not  men  see  this  intelligible  law,  blazoned 
forth  as  it  is  in  characters  of  light  in  every  chapter  of  all 
the  chronicles  of  our  race  ?  Why  will  not  citizens  and 
rulers  alike  understand,  that  force  is  not  persuasion, 
coercion  is  not  conviction,  conscience  is  not  teachable 
by  chains  and  bayonets,  nor  amenable  to  the  prudential 
maxims  of  political  economy  ?  The  ever-accumulating 
burden  of  experimental  wisdom  is  against  us.  The  irre 
sistible  flight  of  time,  the  very  revolution  of  the  earth, 
and  the  hastening  of  the  hours,  are  against  us.  The 
voice  of  rebuke  from  the  ages,  the  deep  thunder  that 
has  been  drawing  its  awful  crescendo  from  the  first  hu- 


AND    THE    NATIONAL    SIN.  427 

man  tradition,  gathers  volume  and  intensity  against  us 
every  instant.  We  may  build  barricades  for  our  prison- 
houses,  and  plant  guns  and  staves  and  chains  about  our 
victims  ;  we  may  stigmatize  or  crucify  the  prophets  that 
tell  us  the  truth ;  we  may  rejoice  in  every  fresh  success 
of  cruel  usurpations  over  human  freedom  ;  but  we  cannot 
thereby  stay  the  advancing  steps  of  retribution.  We 
cannot,  by  police  or  militia,  by  conventions  or  statute- 
books,  by  certificates  of  bondage  or  judicial  forms,  press 
down  behind  the  eastern  horizon  that  ascending  sun 
which  shall  bring  in  the  day  of  our  judgment. 

God  forbid  that  I  should  say  these  things,  or  utter 
these  warnings,  save  with  a  sorrowful  mind  and  reluctant 
lips.  The  times  are  not  bright  enough,  the  prospects 
around  us  not  cheerful  enough,  to  suffer  conscious  levity 
of  thought  or  inconsiderate  speech.  Questions  too  per 
plexing  and  too  intricate  disturb  and  divide  the  best  intel 
ligence  amongst  us,  to  be  passed  upon  with  hasty  or  over 
confident  opinions.  One  of  the  very  transgressions  we 
have  to  deplore,  as  well  as  to  reckon  for,  is  that  very 
violence  of  language  which  irritates  and  provokes  pas 
sion,  instead  of  convincing  the  understanding,  and  that 
bitterness  of  partisan  feeling  which  first  robs  itself  of 
the  faculty  of  seizing  any  other  than  a  one-sided  and 
prejudiced  view  of  the  great  question  at  issue,  and  then 
goes  on  to  create  discord  between  brethren,  to  open  and 
widen  breaches  in  social  intercourse,  to  spoil  the  amen 
ities  of  hospitality,  and  to  insult  the  sacred  charities  of 
religion. 

This,  among  others,  seems  to  me  one  of  the  gravest 
errors  into  which  the  present  posture  of  the  public  mind 
in  reference  to  the  recent  legislation  on  slavery  has  con 
ducted  us,  —  that  so  many  who  speak  and  write  on  the 


428  NATIONAL    RETRIBUTION, 

subject,  both  in  public  journals  and  in  private  conversa 
tion,  refuse  to  recognize  the  existence  of  any  other  than 
two  broadly  distinguished  classes ;  namely,  unqualified 
advocates  of  the  law  as  it  stands,  and  traitors  to  the  gov 
ernment.  I  cannot  think  that  the  self-possession  of  this 
community  has  been  so  completely  unsettled,  nor  its  in 
tellect  so  stultified,  that  it  is  necessary  to  resort  to  this 
sweeping  classification  in  order  to  guard  against  an  al 
leged  incipient  rebellion.  It  not  only  exasperates  well- 
disposed  persons  by  its  presumption,  but  it  inflicts  a  posi 
tive  wound  on  the  truth.  There  is  a  third  class  of  men  in 
the  country,  —  how  numerous  cannot  be  told  till  they  are 
counted,  but  not  very  inconsiderable  in  numbers  nor  con 
temptible  in  character.  It  is  composed  of  those  who  are, 
always  have  been,  and  resolutely  propose  to  be,  loyal 
subjects  to  the  general  government  under  which  they  live, 
unwavering  friends  of  the  union  of  these  States,  and  obe 
dient  observers  of  the  laws.  They  do  not  assort  with  dis- 
organizers,  nor  take  counsel  of  fanaticism.  Their  daily 
associations  are  with  such  as  rely  most  securely  on  the 
settled  order  of  society,  and  their  liveliest  sympathies  lie 
on  the  side  of  submission,  good  faith,  and  good  feeling 
throughout  all  sections  and  classes  of  the  country.  But 
they  have  been  led,  by  processes  within  their  own  minds 
as  uncontrollable  as  the  winds  of  heaven,  and  which  they 
honestly  trace  to  the  workings  of  that  spirit  which  Christ 
compared  to  the  wind  that  bloweth  where  it  listeth,  to 
contemplate  every  possible  enslavement,  or  re-enslave 
ment,  of  any  human  being,  under  any  supposable  array 
of  circumstances,  in  this  age  of  the  world  and  within  the 
great  American  republic,  as  a  terrible  offence  against  the 
plain  will  and  word  of  God,  and  against  that  humanity 
which  he  has  made  and  called  his  child.  They  believe 


AND    THE    NATIONAL    SIN.  429 

the  system  of  negro  slavery  as  it  exists  in  the  United 
States  to  be  explicitly  at  variance  with  the  Almighty's 
will  and  law,  and  with  all  the  duty,  integrity,  purity, 
and  innocent  happiness  of  man.  They  regard  it  as  the 
special  and  overshadowing  affront  of  this  nation  against 
the  Father  of  eternal  justice,  truth,  liberty,  love.  They 
know  that  it  is  an  anomaly  in  our  national  institutions, 
an  abnegation  of  our  history,  a  plague  in  our  politics,  a 
gigantic  curse  upon  industry,  a  foul  insult  to  morality,  a 
blight  upon  learning,  science,  and  the  arts,  the  annihila 
tion  of  God's  ordinance  in  the  family,  the  prostitution  of 
woman,  the  scourge  of  innocence,  the  violation,  direct  or 
indirect,  of  each  of  the  commandments,  and  the  denial  of 
the  Gospel,  the  intensest  meanness  and  the  foulest  filthi- 
ness  and  the  most  profane  impiety,  the  consummation  of 
crimes,  the  comprehensive  antagonist  of  the  kingdom  of 
Heaven,  constituting,  in  the  whole  and  in  each  of  its 
parts,  "  the  abomination  of  desolation,"  "  standing  where 
it  ought  not."  They  deliberately  and  assuredly  believe, 
that  every  man  so  convinced  and  so  seeing  ought  in 
every  place,  by  every  means,  in  street  and  house  and 
shop  and  office  and  caucus  and  legislature  and  pulpit,  to 
bear  his  most  earnest,  express,  unmistakable,  consistent 
witness  against  it,  —  against  all  its  spirit,  rules,  methods, 
actings,  devices,  excuses,  —  but  most  of  all,  against  its 
aggressions  and  extensions.  They  believe  that  such  ag 
gressions  are  forbidden  by  the  civil  constitution,  while 
the  very  continuance  of  the  wrong,  in  any  shape,  is  re 
buked  by  the  entire  spirit  of  that  venerated  instrument, 
and  by  the  designs  and  convictions  of  the  men  that  formed 
it.  I  ask  you  if  it  is  more  than  just,  that  these  men 
should  stand  exempt  from  being  ranked  with  rebels  and 
revolutionists,  —  if  it  is  more  than  reasonable,  that  enlight- 


430  NATIONAL    RETRIBUTION, 

ened  legislation  should  show  some  respect  for  such  citi 
zens,  —  if  it  is  more  than  right,  that  they  should  dispas 
sionately  labor  and  pray  for  some  relief  from  a  require 
ment  which  would  render  their  active  obedience  to  the 
magistrate,  by  the  re-enslavement  of  a  fugitive,  in  their 
eyes  as  direct  and  impious  an  affront  towards  Almighty 
God,  as  falsehood,  blasphemy,  or  robbery  ?  Let  us 
consider  these  things  in  the  temper  of  brethren,  learning 
thereby  forbearance,  moderation,  and  charity, — excellent 
graces  of  the  Christian  life  always,  and  never  more  need 
ed  to  save  us  from  disgraceful  inconsistencies  than  now. 
It  was  well  said  by  a  wise  old  writer,  that  "  to  trouble 
and  unsettle  many  things  is  not  to  do  much ;  but,  being 
unsettled,  to  compose  them,  more ;  to  keep  them  from 
being  unsettled,  most  of  all."  Respecting  this  maxim,  it 
is  the  duty  of  high-principled  statesmen  and  legislators 
to  heed,  not  only  the  loftiest  and  single  suggestions  of 
their  own  nature,  but  the  consciences  of  the  people  whose 
will  they  profess  to  administer.  There  is  rio  measure, 
especially  in  a  republic,  so  radical,  as  that  which  arrays 
what  is  most  Christian  in  a  nation  against  the  magis 
terial  authority;  no  publication  so  inflammatory,  as  a 
law  that  commands  a  moral  people  to  do  that  which 
a  large  majority  of  them  believe  to  be  unjust ;  no  docu 
ment  so  incendiary,  as  one  that  sets  on  fire  the  quench 
less  instinct  that  abhors  oppression,  or  wakes  from  sleep 
that  unmanageable  instinct  which  has  shaken  so  many 
thrones,  —  that  "  resistance  to  tyrants  is  obedience  to 
God."  And  if,  on  the  other  hand,  the.  conscientious 
opponents  of  this  law  will  apply  to  their  determined  and 
unflinching  efforts  for  its  repeal  the  same  purity  of  prin 
ciple  that  makes  its  provisions  offensive,  and  calmly  rely 
on  that  serene  Providence  which  is  sure  to  work  out  a 


AND    THE    NATIONAL    SIN.  431 

final  success  to  them  if  they  do  not  forsake  its  guidance, 
then  who  knows  but  we  may  avert,  by  action  and  by 
prayer,  the  impending  judgment  ? 

This  faith  let  us  all  hold  fast,  parting  with  it  no  sooner 
than  we  will  part  with  life, — that  there  is  no  true  patriot 
ism  without  faith  in  God,  —  no  artifice  of  selfishness,  or 
partisanship,  or  ambition,  which  can  hide  us  from  those 
retributions  that  search  out  all  the  secrets  of  the  universe ; 
that  though  sentence  against  an  evil  work  be  not  execut 
ed  speedily,  it  will  descend  at  last. 

Could  some  penetrating  apprehension  of  this  unbend 
ing  law  seize  on  the  mind  of  the  people,  then,  dropping 
all  our  childish  exultations  in  American  progress,  re 
straining  our  idle  boasts  of  growing  territory,  prosperity, 
and  wealth,  we  should  turn  to  some  manly  regulation  of 
the  advantages  we  enjoy.  Instead  of  avariciously  clutch 
ing  at  the  promise  of  larger  gains,  we  should  soberly  be 
think  ourselves  how  we  may  most  honorably  devote  the 
advantage  already  committed  to  our  hands.  What  we 
are  to  do,  will  rise  into  a  question  of  far  more  imposing 
magnitude,  than  what  we  have  done.  How  to  be  true  to 
the  lofty  and  stern  demands  of  Justice,  of  Freedom,  of 
Truth,  of  God,  as  these  are  so  clearly  and  emphatically 
proclaimed  through  the  facts  of  our  history,  the  intima 
tions  of  Providence,  and  the  wondrous  exigencies  of  the 
times,  —  will  be  a  problem  taxing  the  intelligence  and 
the  energy  of  the  people  far  more  urgently  than  any 
schemes  of  political  ambition.  The  formation  of  a  true 
national  character,  broad  in  its  moral  foundations,  firm 
in  its  supports,  and  symmetrical  in  its  proportions,  — 
combining  together  the  religious  faith  of  the  old  Puritans 
and  the  enterprise  of  the  young  West,  the  warmth  of 
Southern  impulse  balanced  and  directed  by  Northern 


432     NATIONAL  RETRIBUTION,  AND  THE  NATIONAL  SIN. 

steadfastness,  —  beating  with  the  blood  of  Raleigh  and 
of  Penn,  of  Carver  and  Eliot,  of  Roger  Williams  and 
Henry  Vane,  —  blending  Norman  chivalry  with  Saxon 
industry,  and  the  reverence  of  the  Elder  World  with  the 
hope  of  the  New,  —  this  should  become  a  nobler  stimu 
lus  to  our  hopes  than  any  accumulations  of  perishable 
glory.  All  extension  of  empire  would  look  poor,  beside 
the  fulfilment  of  the  aspirations  of  Christianity  in  our 
life,  —  all  the  splendors  of  outward  fortune  turn  dim,  be 
fore  the  upright  doing  of  God's  Eternal  Will. 


SERMON    XXVI. 

THE  WORD    OF   LIFE:    A  LIVING   MINISTRY  AND  A  LIV 
ING  CHURCH.* 

HOLDING  FORTH   THE   WORD    OF   LIFE;    TO   WIT,    THAT     GOD    WAS 
IN   CHRIST,   RECONCILING   THE    WORLD    UNTO  HIMSELF.  —  Phil.  ii. 

16,  and  2  Cor.  v.  19. 

IT  will  not  be  travelling  out  of  the  path  of  thought  nat 
urally  set  open  by  the  introduction  of  ministers  to  their 
office,  if  I  seek  to  represent  the  preaching  of  Christ  as  a 
means  of  communicating  life. 

Vitality  is  a  test  of  any  system  of  doctrine,  as  it  is  of 
any  teacher's  qualification.  If  you  would  find  the  value 
of  any  message,  ask  of  it,  Does  it  live  ?  Do  vital  pulses 
leap  through  it  ?  Does  it  reproduce  its  life  ?  Does  it 
help  men  to  live  ?  Does  it  leave  them  more  alive  or 
more  dead  than  they  were  without  it?  Get  an  answer 
to  these  questions,  and  you  will  find  whether  the  given 
ministry  is  of  heaven,  or  of  a  private  self-interest, — 
whether  it  comes  out  of  the  all-quickening  and  all-com 
prehending  God,  or  out  of  some  dreamer's  brain. 

Nothing  goes  with  much  momentum,  in  the  long  trial, 
that  does  not  carry  life  with  it.  Accumulate  the  learning 

*  Preached  July  30,  1853,  before  the  Graduating  Class  of  the  Meadville 
Theological  School. 

37 


434  THE    WORD    OF    LIFE. 

of  a  thousand  Melancthons ;  pile  together  the  erudition 
of  ancient  schools  and  modern  universities ;  what  does  it 
contribute  to  the  real  treasure  of  men,  if  it  does  not  create 
life  in  them  ?  The  alcoves  of  libraries  may  be  but  the 
chambers  of  a  mausoleum,  —  sepulchres  of  thought,  in 
stead  of  its  nurseries,  —  and  meeting-houses,  spiritual  dor 
mitories.  Eloquence,  burning  as  Peter  the  Hermit's,  is 
wasted  breath,  unless  the  succeeding  life  of  men  shows 
that  it  reached  the  springs  from  which  that  life  was  fed. 
So  in  all  communication  of  man  with  man.  Nothing 
tells,  nothing  does  execution,  nothing  survives  very  long, 
but  what  makes  men  feel  and  will  and  act, — nothing  but 
the  "  word  of  life."  Find  me  a  book,  a  speech,  a  preacher, 
a  gospel,  that  is  not  life-giving,  and  I  know  there  is  no  true 
message,  no  inspiration,  no  revelation  from  God,  there. 

We  meet,  gentlemen,  for  your  anniversary,  at  the  sea 
son  when  the  forces  of  creation  are  most  exuberant  and 
exultant;  when  the  early  summer  is  sending  its  swift 
pulses  into  every  shrub,  its  moist  breath  across  the  clover, 
and  affluent  Nature  encompasses  us  everywhere  with  her 
wealth  of  beauty. 

We  are  thus  reminded,  that  every  manifestation  of 
God  in  the  body  of  his  works  is  a  new  beat  of  his  heart. 
His  successive  creations  are  the  puttings  forth,  in  forms 
of  matter,  of  an  unchangeable  life  behind  and  within,  — 
a  life  never  exhausted  by  expressing  itself.  The  worlds, 
thrown  out  into  their  chiming  revolutions ;  solar  systems, 
set  playing  in  the  shining  cycles  of  a  universe ;  races  of 
animals,  whose  skeletons,  bedded  in  rocks,  become  the 
illustrations  on  those  leaves  of  God's  great  history,  the 
strata  of  the  globe ;  the  spring  sunshine  that  unveils  the 
fragile  beauty  of  the  wind-flower ;  the  autumnal  chemistry 
that  paints  the  woods ;  the  majestic  elm  that  stands  a 


THE    WORD    OF    LIFE.  435 

graceful  goblet  brimmed  with  streaming  life  from  root  to 
leaf,  and  the  frail  weed  that  springs  under  its  shade,  and 
the  moss  that  clings  to  its  bark,  —  these  are  only  so  many 
orderly  utterances  of  God's  vital  being,  so  rnany  words 
of  his  life. 

But  we  must  add,  instantly,  that  for  the  spiritual  being, 
man,  the  only  real  life  is  in  goodness.  Can  it  not  be 
proved  so  ?  If  the  fountain  of  all  the  life  that  flows 
through  the  fields  of  the  universe  is  God,  God  is  but 
another  name  for  goodness.  Ah1  the  life  that  proceeds 
from  him,  therefore,  must  be  according  to  goodness,  or 
love ;  whether  it  beats  in  the  bosom  of  a  sinless  child, 
or  nerves  the  arm  of  a  hero-saint ;  whether  he  rounds  a 
planet,  or  tints  a  rose-leaf;  whether  he  balances  the  Plei 
ades  in  their  spheres,  or  adjusts  the  microscopic  ma 
chinery  of  an  insect's  wing ;  whether  the  afflatus  of  his 
Spirit  bears  up  the  "  seraph  that  adores  and  burns  "  be 
fore  the  throne,  or  lights  the  lamp  of  a  feebler  reason  in 
these  vessels  of  clay.  Only  so  far  as  we  share  in  the  Fa 
ther's  goodness,  then,  are  we  partakers  in  his  life.  The 
measure  of  our  being,  as  living  souls,  is  precisely  the 
measure  of  our  excellence.  In  proportion  as  our  actions 
are  in  harmony  with  divine  laws,  and  our  familiar  frame 
of  feeling  with  God's  will,  we  live.  Herein  is  the  Apos 
tolic  saying  true,  "  To  be  spiritually-minded  is  life." 
Every  rising  up  of  pure  aspiration;  every  clinging  to 
principle  when  you  are  tempted ;  every  choice  of  abstract 
right  above  politic  selfishness;  every  putting  down  of 
sensual  passion  by  prayer;  every  preference  of  a  truth 
which  inherits  a  cross,  over  the  lie  that  flatters  you  with 
a  promise  of  prosperity,  —  is  a  palpable  motion  of  God's 
life  within  you.  Indeed,  this  is  the  most  intimate  sub 
jective  knowledge  you  have  of  God.  God,  out  of  his 


436  THE    WORD     OF    LIFE. 

express  revelation,  never  speaks  to  us  so  audibly  as  when 
his  spirit  prompts  us  to  struggle,  or  braces  us  for  a  sacri 
fice.  A  generous  impulse  is  the  plainest  pledge  of  his 
presence ;  a  devout  trust  in  him,  the  mightiest  demon 
stration  of  his  Fatherhood.  Superseding  all  our  pains 
taking,  traditionary  beliefs  in  a  God  that  was  alive  once, 
this  makes  us  believe  in  a  God  that  kept  his  vigils  over 
our  last  night's  slumbers,  tinged  the  east  with  purple  at 
this  morning's  dawn,  and  opened  a  new  apocalypse  of 
his  glory  in  its  sunrise ;  —  a  God  who  is  as  busy  in  the 
drops  of  this  season's  early  rain  as  when  he  gathered  the 
waters  out  of  chaos ;  whose  voice  comes  as  clear  from 
the  rustling  of  every  way-side  shrub,  as  when  the  first 
man  heard  it  among  the  cedars  in  Eden ;  who  revives 
the  glorious  pageant  of  his  ancient  wonders  and  splen 
dors  in  every  year's  seed-time  and  fruitage ;  who  is  as 
close  to  the  sorrowing  heart  that  bends  over  the  new- 
made  grave  to-day,  as  to  Hagar  in  the  wilderness ;  and 
who  is  as  faithful  to  the  good  man's  prayer  now,  as  to 
David's  harp,  or  the  songs  of  Paul  and  Silas  at  midnight 
in  the  prison. 

Let  these  general  thoughts  serve  at  once  to  introduce, 
and  to  project  into  its  widest  relations,  the  particular 
theme  of  my  discourse. 

The  order  in  which  the  subject  will  most  naturally  ex 
hibit  itself  requires  me  first  to  state,  as  briefly  as  I  can, 
the  essential  doctrine  of  that  "  word  of  life "  which 
Christian  preaching  is  to  hold  forth ;  not  the  gospel  of 
to-day,  but  of  all  days,  —  the  same  yesterday,  to-day, 
and  for  ever.  It  is  of  vastly  more  moment  to  any 
preacher  that  he  should  have  definite  and  realizing  no 
tions  of  ivhat  he  is  to  preach,  than  any  set  of  rules  or  for 
mal  furnishings  for  the  manner  of  preaching  it.  After 


THE    WORD    OF    LIFE.  437 

considering,  in  this  way,  what  the  "  word  of  life  "  itself 
is,  that  is,  the  living  and  life-giving  doctrine,  we  shall 
proceed  to  the  characteristics  of  the  living  ministry  of 
that  Word ;  and  then  of  the  living  Church,  embodying 
and  obeying  it. 

I.  First,  in  order  to  apprehend  what  the  life  of  the 
Christian  Church,  or  of  the  Christian  soul,  is,  we  must 
apprehend  the  life  of  its  Head.  He  is  "  that  word " 
made  flesh. 

Now,  inasmuch  as  the  true  vitality  of  the  Church  con 
sists  in  the  fact  that  its  chief  functions  are  reconciling 
functions,  and  as  the  Church's  complete  consummation 
will  be  the  complete  reconciliation  of  human  society,  — 
so  it  finds  its  supreme  sanction  in  the  reconciling,  or  lit 
erally  the  atoning,  character  of  its  Head.  "God  is  in 
Christ,  reconciling  the  world  unto  himself."  Those 
words  are  the  key  to  all  the  Gospel,  to  all  Christian  his 
tory,  to  all  Christian  experience.  They  hold  in  them  the 
power  of  that  life  which  has  so  far  energized  Christen 
dom,  and  is  to  redeem  and  sanctify  the  world. 

Stated  in  its  theological  relations,  I  hold  this  truth  to 
stand  thus.  For  reconciliation  between  finite  and  infi 
nite,  there  must  be  a  reconciler  combining  both  in  his  own 
person.  Here,  precisely,  is  the  grand,  redemptive  synthe 
sis,  effected  in  Christ.  Bridging  over,  by  the  mystery  of 
his  nature,  —  a  mystery  whose  very  claim  on  our  faith 
consists  in  its  transcending  the  definitions  of  science, 
since  faith,  of  course,  never  properly  begins  till  we  have 
got  to  the  limit  of  science,  —  bridging  over  the  gulf  that 
yawned  between  the  perpetual  frailty  of  man  and  the 
perfection  of  God,  —  he  is  the  vinculum  that  binds  up  the 
spiritual  organism  of  the  world,  dislocated  and  bruised 

37* 


438  THE    WORD    OF    LIFE. 

by  sin.  If  Christ  were  only  man,  he  could  not  mediate 
between  man  and  God.  If  he  were  only  God,  he  could 
not  mediate  between  God  and  man.  Here  is  the  eternal, 
inherent  necessity  of  the  mystery  of  the  Incarnation, 
reaching  back  before  Abraham  was,  into  the  bosom  of 
the  Everlasting  Father  ;  and  there  deriving  the  purchase- 
power  to  lift  humanity  to  heaven.  The  vital  point  of 
the  whole  Christian  system  is  the  inspiring  contact  it 
establishes  between  the  life  of  God  and  the  life  of  man, 
by  a  mediating  Christ ;  a  Christ  qualified  to  mediate, 
by  bringing  over  the  forces  of  the  Almighty  Spirit  to 
reinvigorate  the  wasted  spirituality  of  the  race,  to  restore 
and  comfort  the  individual  soul  that  will  receive  him. 
Here  is  the  only  corner-stone  for  a  Church,  —  a  personal, 
divine  Christ.  Any  plan  of  theology  that  misses  this 
is  defective  at  the  core.  Pride  of  speculation,  ambitious 
will-worships,  theories  of  self-culture,  philosophies  of  in 
tuitions,  moral  respectabilities,  never  reach  the  disor 
dered  spot,  nor  meet  the  practical  want  of  souls  in  ear 
nest.  Under  the  real  stress  and  strain  of  life,  what  the 
penitent  soul  cries  out  for  is  that  heavenly  mediation 
that  unites  and  reconciles  the  two  opposing  elements  of 
utter  imperfection  in  the  performances  of  human  nature, 
and  the  immaculate  holiness  of  the  Judge  of  all. 

If  you  ask  whence  comes  the  need  of  this  reconcilia 
tion,  I  answer,  it  comes  from  the  need  every  man  is 
under  of  passing  over  from  the  mere  natural  life,  which 
is  the  life  he  is  born  with,  into  the  spiritual  life,  which  is 
simply  the  inward  reception  of  Christ  by  faith,  and 
which  saves  him,  that  is,  makes  a  Christian  of  him.  Of 
that  new  birth,  Jesus  himself  explicitly  asserts  the  uni 
versal  necessity.  The  natural  life  has  for  its  ruling 
principle  selfishness ;  and,  however  decent  or  even  lovely 


THE    WORD    OF    LIFE.  439 

to  the  eye,  it  is  never  holy.  Being  mixed  as  to  its 
good  and  evil  elements,  it  has  no  security  against  per 
dition.  The  regenerate  or  holy  life  may  begin  so  early 
as  to  open  along  with  the  powers  of  consciousness,  and 
grow  up  with  the  growing  faculties,  thus  blending  with 
and  sanctifying  the  natural ;  but  it  is  a  distinct  process. 
It  cannot  begin  too  early  nor  too  suddenly :  to  create  its 
beginning,  in  accordance  with  the  laws  and  promised 
help  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  is  the  office  of  preaching.  But 
it  is  a  new  life  when  it  comes ;  it  is  the  reception,  into 
a  sinning  and  enfeebled  humanity,  of  the  quickening  and 
supernatural  life  of  Christ  the  Reconciler,  who  comes 
into  the  world  quite  as  much  to  impart  to  us  of  God,  as 
to  be  the  perfect  pattern  of  a  man.  In  accordance  with 
this  view,  sin  being  a  universal  taint,  error,  guilt,  of  the 
race,  the  renewed  life  must  begin  with  a  Prodigal's  con 
fession,  and  be  baptized  with  a  Magdalen's  tears.  Saint- 
ship  always  rears  its  most  beautiful  proportions  on  the 
lowly  ground  of  that  humility.  The  full  burst  of  rap 
ture  from  the  lips  of  the  redeemed  is  an  august  crescendo 
from  the  sobs  of  the  penitent ;  and  every  Gloria  in  Ex- 
celsis,  from  the  Church  Triumphant,  swells  up  from  a 
heart-broken  Miserere. 

There  are  two  theories  of  salvation ;  or  rather,  one  is 
a  theory  of  self-propelling;  the  other  is  God's  plan  of 
salvation.  I  mean,  human  development,  and  divine  de 
liverance  or  redemption.  One  says  :  "  Save  yourselves ; 
nature  gave  you  noble  capacities  ;  put  them  forth.  Ap 
ply  your  mind  to  self-culture.  Unfold  your  own  facul 
ties.  Inspect  your  own  attainments.  Instinct  and  in 
tuition  are  your  only  Messiah.  Study  the  Constitution 
of  Man.  Read  Combe  and  the  '  Vestiges.'  Respect  the 
natural  laws :  they  are  your  only  religion.  Genesis  is  a 


440  THE    WORD    OF    LIFE. 

myth.  Man  is  no  such  creature  as  the  Bible  says.  The 
first  animated  being  was  an  animated  atom,  and  then 
slowly  expanded  into  a  mollusk,  which  afterwards  grew 
into  a  fish ;  and  this,  after  many  attempts,  struggled  on 
to  dry  land,  and  converted  its  fins  into  legs  (the  only 
kind  of  conversion,  by  the  way,  that  this  philosophy  rec 
ognizes)  ,  and  so  became  a  reptile ;  and  then  the  reptile 
shot  out  wings  and  became  a  bird ;  and  the  bird  dropped 
its  wings  downward  one  day,  and  so,  by  reconversion, 
got  two  more  legs,  and  became  a  beast ;  and  the  beast, 
after  a  while,  rose  erect,  and  became  a  man  " !  You  are 
aware  that  this,  called  by  courtesy  a  philosophy,  is  no 
caricature  of  a  theory  put  against  the  Bible  by  some  of 
the  thinkers  of  the  nineteenth  century,  like  Lamarck  and 
Demaillet,  who  have  remained  outside  of  insane  asylums. 
The  theological  notion  which  makes  the  chief  end  of  man 
to  be  self-culture  —  if  that  can  be  called  a  theology  which 
leaves  the  ®eo?  quite  out  of  the  account  —  is  only  a  le 
gitimate  induction  from  these  postulates  in  science. 

I  think  you  will  not  suspect  me  of  standing  up  in 
the  middle  of  the  nineteenth  century,  in  the  face  of  a 
theological  school,  to  discredit  human  culture ;  but  I  say, 
that,  under  the  logical  action  of  a  theology  of  self-devel 
opment,  worship  would  ultimately  be  exploded.  It  may 
survive  awhile  by  virtue  of  old  associations,  but  it  sur 
vives  illogically.  Self-culture  is  limited  solely  to  the 
human  consciousness,  and  there  it  must  spend  its  ener 
gies,  groping  in  its  own  twilight,  pulling  at  its  own  feet, 
supplicating  its  own  will,  —  an  endless  series  of  moral 
contradictions.  It  is  godless,  for  the  simple  reason  that 
it  has  no  God.  It  makes  of  Messiah  nothing  more  than 
a  Hebrew  youth,  who  managed  his  propensities  more 
skilfully  than  other  men.  Faith  is  dwarfed  down  to 


THE    WORD    OF    LIFE.  441 

confidence  in  our  own  power  to  accomplish  what  we 
undertake.  Remorse  is  only  the  natural  regret  for  an 
Epicurean,  or  at  best  a  Stoic,  miscalculation.  Not  sat 
isfied  with  the  fine  reaction  of  Channing's  thesis,  that 
human  nature  is  a  glorious  product  of  God,  —  against 
the  ultra-Genevan  hyperbole,  frozen  into  a  dogma,  that 
human  nature  is  utterly  devilish,  —  it  goes  on  to  boast 
the  individual  self  to  be  a  glorious  creature.  Man  is 
much  hampered  for  the  present,  it  says,  by  his  circum 
stances,  but  only  needing  fair  play  to  outdo  the  arch 
angels  ;  and  his  only  responsibility  is  to  his  own  organi 
zation.  As  to  sin,  it  is  only  the  bugbear  of  Calvinistic 
nurseries  and  Scriptural  legends.  There  is  no  such 
thing.  Imperfect  culture,  crude  impulses,  half-way  de 
velopment,  —  these  are  what  old  wives  call  sin.  One  of 
the  latest  foreign  bulletins  of  this  mad  materialism  pro 
claims,  with  a  frankness  which  some  of  our  domestic 
deniers,  who  have  really  reached  the  same  pitch  of  ir 
reverent  negation,  might  well  emulate,  —  "The  true  road 
to  liberty,  equality,  and  happiness  is  atheism.  Let  us 
teach  man  that  there  is  no  God  but  himself."  And  an 
other  ridicules  "  poor,  timid  Voltaire  and  Diderot,"  as  not 
half-infidel  enough  in  their  infidelity.  Why  ?  Because 
"  they  were  never  quite  ready  to  look  on  man  as  the  cul 
minating  point  of  existence." 

Of  course,  then,  prayer  can  be  nothing  else  but  a  poor 
mock-device,  whose  real  function  is  self-excitation.  Ask 
ing  and  receiving,  prayer  and  answer  to  prayer,  are  out 
of  the  question.  If  we  pretend  to  pray  at  all,  like  politic 
bargainers  we  bring  our  modicum  of  homage,  not  as  the 
spontaneous  tribute  of  a  glad  soul,  that  cannot  keep  its 
praise  and  glory  back,  but  to  say,  "  Lord,"  or  rather, 
"  Great  Impersonal  Inane,  O  All,  Pan !  here  is  my  pe- 


442  THE    WORD    OF    LIFE. 

tition ;  give  me  the  value  for  which  it  pays  the  price." 
Even  Schiller  candidly  declares,  that  with  him  piety  is 
not  the  end  of  life,  but  only  a  means  of  attaining  to  the 
highest  culture  through  the  calmest  repose,  or  balance, 
of  the  mind, — the  frigid  ultimatum  of  Pantheism!  Paul 
declares,  peremptorily,  "  Ye  are  not  your  own :  glorify 
God  in  your  body  and  your  spirit,  which  are  God's." 

Turn,  then,  to  the  other  system,  —  Deliverance,  or 
supernatural  Redemption.  That  says,  God  in  Christ 
reaches  down  to  help,  save  us ;  only  asking  that  we,  by 
love  and  faith  to  the  Saviour,  and  corresponding  or  out 
flowing  faithful  moral  effort,  will  let  ourselves  be  saved. 
The  Gospel  is  an  offer  from  above  us.  It  is  a  divine 
interposition  of  deliverance,  embodied  in  a  Divine  Re 
deemer.  Christ  comes  forth  to  men  from  above,  accord 
ing  to  the  whole  plain  doctrine  of  John's  Proem  to  his 
Gospel,  and  the  New  Testament  everywhere.  And 
why  ?  Because  man  is  in  a  dilemma.  He  is  tainted. 
Disobedience  has  forfeited  his  safety,  under  a  perfect 
and  inviolable  law.  He  knows  he  is  beset  with  proclivi 
ties  to  sin.  Mortal  infirmities  encompass  him  on  every 
side.  The  integrity  of  his  moral  power  is  broken.  His 
part  now  is,  like  that  of  a  traveller  fallen  into  a  pit,  to 
lay  hold,  and  keep  hold.  Do  you  say  that  is  doing 
nothing,  and  gives  no  room  for  work  or  the  muscles  ? 
Try  it,  and  see  if  it  is  not  work.  Believing  gives  up  the 
heart.  Do  you  fear  this  heart  of  love  and  faith  will  not 
produce  righteousness  of  life  ?  But  did  you  ever  know 
a  person  to  refuse  or  grudge  service  to  the  being  he  su 
premely  loved  ?  To  keep  it  back  is  harder  work  than  to 
give  it,  then.  The  heart's  affections  originate  and  compel 
work.  The  heart  wrought  upon,  and  then  given,  an  in 
exhaustible  fountain  is  opened,  out  of  which  all  spiritual 


THE    WORD    OF    LIFE.  443 

action  must  proceed.  In  that  thought  lies  my  whole 
philosophy  of  salvation  ;  and  it  is  far  enough  from  being 
mine  in  any  sense  of  property.  If  I  understand  him,  it 
is  precisely  Paul's  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith.  It  is 
the  inspired  and  inspiring  doctrine.  It  is  the  doctrine  of 
"  God  in  Christ,  reconciling  the  world  unto  himself." 

We  are  able,  now,  to  contrast  the  two,  as  to  their  re 
sults  or  fruits.  The  habit  of  the  one  is  introversion ;  that 
of  the  other  is  aspiration.  The  emotion  of  success  in 
the  one  is  self-complacency  ;  in  the  other,  devout  grati 
tude.  One  yields  a  virtue  that  is  steadfast,  a  character 
permanent,  because  its  roots  clasp  the  Rock  of  ages ;  the 
other,  a  virtue  fitful  and  uncertain,  snapped  like  tow  in 
the  fire  of  temptation,  —  a  zone  of  moral  restraint  more 
dissolute  than  the  Corinthian,  and  principles  looser  than 
the  Spartan's ;  and  in  society,  by  this  time,  through  the 
accumulating  pressure  of  an  unchristianized  barbarism, 
we  should  have  worse  than  Punic  honesty,  and  the  ve 
racity  of  Arabs,  —  a  civil  anarchy  like  what  might  con 
vulse  a  world  full  of  Cuban  buccaneers,  and  a  commerce 
that  would  disgrace  the  market-place  of  Circassians. 
The  one  would  show  us,  at  fairest,  a  few  instances  of 
moral  beauty,  finite,  artistic,  and  mortal.  The  other 
would  pour  its  gushing  devotions  out  in  some  musical 
aspiration  of  the  closet  or  the  conventicle,  surpassing,  in 
its  heartiness,  all  the  cool  deductions  of  the  brain.  Its 
chosen  lessons  are  lyrics,  not  demonstrations.  It  feeds 
on  the  rhythmic  contemplations  of  a  John.  It  kindles  at 
the  songs  from  David's  harp.  It  weeps  over  Thomas  a 
Kempis's  prose.  It  soars  to  heaven  on  the  contagious 
ecstasies  of  a  Moravian  hymn. 

Christ,  then,  is  more  than  the  Founder  of  the  Church, 
as  he  is  so  often  called.  He  pours  his  own  life  into  it. 


444  THE    WORD    OF    LIFE. 

It  is  his  body.  He  did  not  stand  apart,  and,  by  a  mere 
manual  exercise,  lay  its  corner-stone,  and  rear  its  struc 
ture  outside  of  himself.  He  rather  threw  it  forth  from 
himself;  and,  informing  it  with  his  Spirit,  the  Comforter, 
took  up  a  constant  abode  on  earth,  in  the  life  of  his  fol 
lowers.  Laying  down  his  Hebrew  body,  his  soul  eman 
cipated  itself  from  all  national  restrictions,  and  went 
forth  to  make  its  dwelling  in  every  believing  heart. 

His  advent  was  the  inauguration  of  the  Divine  Life 
on  the  earth.  Hence  the  saying,  half  mystical  but  all 
true,  reported  by  the  Evangelist,  "  The  bread  of  God  is 
he  who  cometh  down  from  heaven,  and  giveth  life  unto 
the  world."  So  intimate  is  the  union  between  the  dis 
ciple  and  Jesus.  "  I  am  the  vine,  ye  are  the  branches"; 
"  I  in  you,  and  you  in  me." 

According  to  this  doctrine,  it  begins  to  be  plain  enough 
where,  and  where  only,  you  may  expect  to  find  a  Church 
that  is  alive.  It  is  only  where  the  reconciling  office  of 
Christ  is  felt  as  a  reality,  and  where  the  immediate  gifts 
of  his  divine  Spirit,  in  the  communion  of  love,  are  a 
part  of  the  soul's  experience.  Without  this,  you  have 
very  interesting  associations,  no  doubt,  and  social  com 
binations, —  civil,  political,  scientific,  philanthropic,  ethi 
cal,  and  even  religious ;  but  unless  they  are  religious 
according  to  the  way  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  you  have  not 
got  a  Church.  The  only  idea  that  will  organize  that,  is 
the  idea  of  the  Cross,  and  Reconciliation  by  it.  Morality, 
or  the  virtues,  —  Philanthropy,  or  the  humanities,  — 
Naturalism,  or  self-culture,  —  they  are  all  taken  up,  em 
braced,  guaranteed,  in  the  Christ  and  him  crucified ;  for 
then  they  rest  on  an  authority  that  at  once  transcends 
and  supports  them.  Without  him  they  have  lost  their 
root ;  and,  though  originally  started  from  the  living  vine, 


THE    WORD    OF    LIFE.  445 

if  they  persist  in  their  ungrateful  will  not  to  abide  in  him, 
nothing  can  prevent  that  they  be  cast  forth  as  withered 
branches. 

Precisely  here,  my  friends,  may  be  found  a  deep  defect 
in  much  of  the  current  theology.  Christ  is  too  much  re 
garded  as  having  introduced  Christianity,  and  then  retir 
ing  to  let  it  work  its  way.  It  has  been  a  mistake  to 
dwell  exclusively  on  the  benefits  wrought  by  Jesus 
Christ's  coming  on  past  conditions  of  society.  The  in 
fusion  of  that  fresh  and  living  stream  into  the  stagnating 
current  of  human  history,  when  the  world  by  its  own 
wisdom  knew  not  God,  or  had  forgotten  him,  and  the 
garden  he  had  made  beautiful  by  his  own  planting,  and 
radiant  with  his  miracles,  was  turning  into  a  dry  desert 
of  heathenism,  did  not  end  with  the  ascension,  nor  with 
the  apostolic  age.  The  life  that  was  then  poured  into 
the  world's  empty  channels,  through  the  quickening 
words  and  the  yet  more  inspiring  works  of  the  Redeem 
er,  has  a  faint  and  feeble  symbol  only  in  the  reviving  of  a 
thirsty  and  dusty  city,  when  the  cup  of  a  country  lake's 
cool  waters  is  made  by  the  careful  hand  of  science  to 
run  over,  and  their  gracious  wave  sets  in,  a  regulated 
blessing  through  its  streets  ;  —  a  faint  and  feeble  symbol, 
I  say  ;  for  Jesus  said,  "  Whosoever  drinketh  of  this  wa 
ter  "  —  deep  as  the  well  is,  cold  as  the  spring  may  be  — 
"  shall  thirst  again,"  — thirst  in  fever  and  in  toil,  and  in 
the  burning  sorrows  of  mortality ;  "  but  whosoever  shall 
drink  of  the  water  that  I  shall  give  him,  it  shall  be  in  him 
a  well  of  water,  springing  up  into  everlasting  life." 

What  we  need  to  comprehend,  then,  is  that  Christ,  in 
all  the  power  of  his  Spirit,  and  all  the  sanction  of  his 
promises,  and  all  the  searching  application  of  his  pre 
cepts,  is  introduced  a  spring  of  reconciling  life  into  the 

38 


446  THE    WORD    OF    LIFE. 

affairs  and  the  heart  of  the  present  world ;  life  into  the 
very  organic  structure  of  human  society ;  life  into  the 
operations  of  commerce ;  life  into  the  legislation  of  gov 
ernments  ;  life  into  the  order  and  training  of  families ; 
life  into  the  responsibility  of  individuals  ;  and  conse 
quently,  that  he  is  as  much  a  gift  of  life  to  this  genera 
tion  and  to  this  community  as  to  the  primitive  brother 
hood,  or  to  the  cottage  at  Bethany.  If  Christianity  is 
what  it  pretends  to  be,  or  anything  kindred  to  it;  if 
Christ  himself  uttered  one  word  to  be  believed  in  all  his 
claims  to  the  Messiahship,  then  every  man,  woman,  and 
youth  in  this  house  may  have  as  real  and  close  a  union 
with  him  as  John  who  leaned  upon  his  bosom,  or  Mary 
who  washed  his  feet  with  tears,  or  the  children  that  were 
privileged  to  be  taken  into  his  arms  and  blessed.  For  he 
is  a  Spirit,  and  not  a  form ;  a  vital  presence,  and  not  a 
bygone  story ;  an  energy  in  the  heart,  and  not  a  soulless 
echo  of  tradition.  The  infant,  whose  brow  felt  the 
breath  of  our  American  air  for  the  first  time  yesterday, 
enters  as  much  into  the  inheritance  of  that  life,  as  the 
Judaean  fishermen  that  he  called  to  leave  their  nets  and 
follow  him.  The  young  man  who  to-morrow  conse 
crates  the  enterprise  of  his  manhood  to  purity  and  jus 
tice,  making  his  character  a  steadfast  column  in  the 
framework  of  an  upright  society,  —  to  be  trusted  always, 
and  believed  in  everywhere,  —  is  as  much  an  heir  to  that 
life,  as  the  brothers  that  were  told  they  should  drink  of 
Christ's  cup,  and  be  baptized  with  his  baptism;  and 
every  patient  soul,  self-sacrificing  amidst  this  week's 
trials,  as  those  immediate  partakers  of  his  cross  that  he 
pledged  to  seat  on  the  twelve  thrones  in  his  kingdom. 

I  speak  to  you  as  thinking  men,  not  less  than  as  feel 
ing  and  sometimes  suffering  men,  when  I  ask  you,  if  you 


THE    WORD    OF    LIFE.  447 

have  never  felt  a  meaning  in  that  comparison  of  the 
Lord,  expressing  a  union  the  most  entire  between  him 
self  and  those  that  thus  accept  him,  — "  As  the  branch 
cannot  bear  fruit  of  itself,  except  it  abide  in  the  vine,  no 
more  can  ye,  except  ye  abide  in  me." 

Does  it  not  begin  to  appear,  then,  how  the  Church 
depends  on  the  characters  of  those  who  fill  its  ranks,  and 
execute  its  tasks  ?  The  life  given  it  is  given  on  such 
conditions,  that  if  the  Church  is  not  filled,  from  time  to 
time,  with  believing,  earnest,  holy  hearts,  its  past  renown 
will  not  save  it.  The  Church  of  to-day  depends  on  the 
souls  living  to-day.  The  Church  here  depends  on  the 
souls  living,  and  about  to  live,  here.  Salvation  is  still 
a  voluntary  matter,  and  must  be  worked  out.  Christ 
does  not  abrogate  free  agency.  The  Church  universal, 
or  any  branch  of  it,  must  receive  ever  fresh  accessions 
of  life,  interest,  power,  through  individual  hearts,  or 
else  must  sink  inevitably  to  death.  It  lives  only  as 
they  that  are  of  it  live.  It  is  vital  only  with  their  vital 
ity.  It  is  a  live  body  only  as  they  are  live  Christians. 
"  Now,  then,  we  are  ambassadors  for  Christ,  as  though 
God  did  persuade  you  by  us :  be  ye  reconciled  to  God." 

II.  Here  enters,  then,  the  office  of  the  ministry.  It  is 
to  produce  this  Life,  —  to  take  up  and  carry  forward, 
in  man's  behalf,  Christ's  reconciling  work ;  by  whatever 
methods,  according  to  whatever  theory ;  by  communica 
tion  and  by  incitement;  by  rousing  and  kindling  the 
dormant  capacities  of  the  soul,  and  by  taking  the  things 
of  the  Spirit,  and  showing  them ;  life,  at  all  events,  and 
at  all  cost,  —  life  as  opposed  to  stupor,  half-belief,  spirit 
ual  indifference,  or  a  heart  split  between  God's  worship 
and  mammon-worship,  —  life,  not  death. 


448  THE    WORD    OF    LIFE. 

1.  A  Living  Ministry;   what  constitutes  that?     The 
first  condition  it  requires  is  confidence,  on  the  part   of 
the  men  that  exercise  it,  in  the  office  and  work  itself. 
Whoever  harbors  a  settled  scepticism  as  to  the  truthful 
ness,  the  high  Christian  legitimacy  of  his  calling,  carries 
a  virtual  treachery  in  his  own  heart.     Unless  a  candid 
and  penetrating  reflection  will  scatter  it,  he  should  abdi 
cate.     It  will  vitiate  ah1  his  action,  and  unnerve  the  right 
hand   of  his  resolution.      No  work  can   be  done  right 
thoroughly,  and  handsomely,  about  which  there  is  a  per 
petual  doubt,  querying  of  the  hearer's  mind  whether  it 
is  worth  doing.     Believe  in  it  or  fail  in  it,  is  a  maxim 
that  will  hold  of  any  vocation,  preaching  or  ploughing, 
statesmanship  or  masonry.     But  it  holds  especially   of 
work  spiritual  in  its  nature,  or  dealing  with  humanity 
and  truth.     To  go   on  there,  after  a  fair  facing  of  the 
doubt,  and  a  failure  to  overmaster  it,  is  a  trespass.     It 
leads  to  a  thousand  mischiefs,  not  the  least  of  which  is 
the  ruin  of  the  workman's  simplicity.     Service  under  the 
loss  of  integrity  is  not  only  falsehood,  but  it  is  slavery, 
which  is  also  death.     Whoever  would  be  a  freeman,  or 
even  a  living  man,  must  believe  in  what  he  does.     Other 
wise,  sow  broadcast  as  he  will,  a  certain  subtle  poison  flies 
out  with  ah1  the  seed  he  throws,  that  cheats  him  of  a  har 
vest.     It  is  in  vain  that  he  goes  forth  against  sin,  with 
lightning  like  Chrysostom's  on  his  tongue,  arms  stout  as 
bars  of  iron,  and  thunderbolts  in  his  hands,  if  he  cannot 
lift,  out  of  a  fervent  and  believing  heart,  the  old  watch 
word  of  the  Crusaders,  "  God  wills  it." 

2.  Another  condition,  indispensable   to    a   life-giving 
style   of  ministry,  is   distinctness  of  purpose.     There  is 
such  a  thing  as  ascending  a  pulpit  from  a  vague  feeling 
that  the  institution  of  the  ministry  is  a  very  becoming 


THE    WORD    OF    LIFE.  449 

appendage  to  good  society,  —  ought  to  be  kept  up  as 
one  of  the  props  of  respectability,  without  any  clear 
conception  of  the  object  to  be  accomplished,  or  any 
definite  aim,  directing  every  exercise  connected  with  it. 
Double-mindedness  creates  confusion,  and  confusion  be 
gets  uneasiness,  and  uneasiness  irritates  to  disease,  and 
disease  brings  death,  or  that  indifferent  stupidity  which 
differs  from,  death  principally  in  the  doubtful  distinction 
of  not  being  buried.  That  labor, is  always  most  satis 
factory  which  cuts  off  the  loose  shreds  and  entangle 
ments  of  side-aims,  and  possesses  a  clean,  rounded  unity. 
There  is  no  employment  in  the  world  that  contemplates 
a  more  precise  and  clear  result  than  preaching, — the 
forming,  religiously,  of  the  character  of  the  hearer,  re 
newing  in  him  a  spiritual  life.  There  is  always  a  charm 
and  a  power  in  sharpness  of  drawing,  whether  in  an  out 
line  of  Raphael,  a  process  of  logic,  the  progress  of  a  pro 
fession,  or  the  plan  of  life. 

3.  Another  means  of  life  to  a  living  ministry  is  the 
constant  presence,  in  the  administration,  of  a  quick  and 
profound  sense  of  the  nature  and  the  dignity  of  the  souls 
it  speaks  to.  It  is  one  thing  to  foist  human  nature  into 
the  throne  of  God,  but  quite  another  to  honor  it  as 
God's  child.  Every  religious  teacher  knows,  that  the 
sanctity  of  the  subjects  he  is  familiar  with  does  not  se 
cure  him  against  belittling  impressions,  any  more  than 
their  native  vitality  secures  him  against  a  lifeless  utter 
ance.  Even  in  pleading  for  salvation,  the  august  appeal 
to  the  spirit,  in  behalf  of  its  eternal  peace  and  freedom, 
loses  half  its  unction  and  its  power,  because  we  forget, 
even  while  the  burning  message  is  on  our  lips,  what  that 
spirit  is  in  its  origin,  in  its  destination,  in  its  immortal 
ity.  Could  every  preacher  come  before  his  people,  each 

38* 


450  THE    WORD    OF    LIFE. 

time  he  meets  them,  penetrated  with  a  living  conviction 
of  the  grandeur,  the  infinitude,  the  preciousness  of  the 
soul  of  every  hearer ;  could  he  escape  from  all  the  be 
numbing  influence  of  habit,  and  the  constant  tendency 
of  details  to  fritter  away  reverence,  and  tame  wonder 
down  ;  could  he  keep  his  realizing  perception  of  what  a 
soul  is,  as  vivid  as  if  the  revelation  of  it  were  made  each  in 
stant  afresh  to  his  own  mind, — it  is  safe  to  say,  riot  merely 
that  harvests,  richer  than  his  most  venturous  hope  dared 
dream  of,  would  crown  his  toil,  —  an  unprecedented 
intensity  touching  his  Christ-like  lips  with  inspiration, 
and  clothing  every  word  with  wings  of  fire,  —  but  also 
that  a  zeal  for  the  task  would  seize  on  his  own  heart, 
sending  him  to  it  with  an  impulse  that  he  could  not 
keep  back,  and  would  make  his  every  message  like  a 
chapter  from  the  gospel  of  life.  What  was  a  task  be 
fore  would  be  a  task  no  longer ;  and  he  would  be  raised 
so  far  above  all  lust  for  an  outward  recompense,  that 
the  thought  of  waiting  for  it  would  be  like  that  of  ask 
ing  a  premium  for  giving  the  fatherless  their  due,  or 
being  hired  to  love  one's  mother. 

Regard  man  as  only  a  creature  to  be  got  decently 
through  the  ceremony  of  life,  or  only  as  a  lay  figure  to 
be  dressed  in  the  trappings  of  a  prosperous  civilization 
for  purposes  of  jart,  or  as  an  actor  to  be  trained  to  a  skil 
ful  part  among  the  decorations  and  appointments  in  the 
histrionic  genuflexions  and  tergiversations,  the  etiquette 
and  the  bargaining  of  a  great  conventional  and  commer 
cial  play-house  of  a  world, —  nay,  further,  regard  him 
only  as  a  mind  to  be  filled  with  knowledge,  or  as  a 
memory  to  be  stuffed  with  information,  —  and  it  will 
not  be  strange,  if,  so  far  as  all  the  purposes  of  a  Chris 
tian  discipline  are  concerned,  a  ministry  followed  under 


THE    WORD    OF    LIFE.  451 

such  estimates  were  lifeless,  and  should  yield  a  lifeless 
product. 

4.  The  living  ministry  is  a  ministry  that  never  loses 
sight  of  its  original  and  spiritual  purposes,  in  the  dull 
round  of  a  mechanical  or  perfunctory  discharge  of  the 
external  duty  ;  never  sacrifices  the  spirit  that  giveth  life 
to  the  letter  that  killeth,  sense  to  sound,  truthfulness  to 
propriety,  honesty  to  expediency,  simplicity  to  exhibi 
tion,  nor,  what  is  more  common  than  all,  heartiness  to 
sheer  habit.  There  is  a  kind  of  preaching,  and  it  is  not 
confined  to  any  one  school  of  theology,  which,  if  it  spoke 
itself  out,  would  say  on  Sunday  morning  to  the  congre 
gation,  after  this  fashion:  u  Well,  dearly  beloved  breth 
ren,  I  have  come  into  your  pulpit  to-day,  because  I  have 
agreed  to  come.  It  is  in  the  terms  of  an  old  contract 
between  us  ;  a  contract  that  was  formed,  to  be  sure, 
when  I  was  disposed  to  take  a  somewhat  more  fanatical 
view  of  the  matter  than  I  arn  at  present.  But  I  respect 
the  bargain :  worship  is  a  social  decency,  and  a  graceful 
adjunct  to  civilization.  Established  usage  looks  in  this 
direction,  and  religious  institutions  are  a  politer  kind  of 
constabulary.  I  am  here  in  my  place,  as  the  bell  rings, 
therefore,  and  I  take  occasion  to  remark  to  you,  as  J 
think  I  have  done  before,  that  it  is  proper  you  should  be 
saved.  The  Bible  is  pronounced  authentic  by  competent 
antiquarians,  and  has  uncommon  literary  merit ;  the 
laws  of  good-breeding  have  settled  it  that  virtue  is  a 
desirable  accomplishment,  besides  being  a  safe  protec 
tion  against  unpleasant  penalties  invented  by  magis 
trates  ;  and  Christian  faith  I  will  recommend  as  a 
prudent  specific  against  disagreeable  consequences  gen 
erally  reported  to  follow  wicked  courses.  Amen."  In 
this  quarter  lie  a  peril  and  a  wrong,  which  at  present 


452  THE    WORD    OF    LIFE. 

comprehend  in  their  bearings  more  mischief  to  genuine 
Christianity,  and  more  disasters  to  the  prevalence  of  a 
Christian  manhood,  of  the  heroic  stamp,  than  all  other 
perils  and  wrongs  combined.  I  mean  the  tendency  to  a 
continual  decay  of  vital  sincerity  in  the  routine  of  the 
business,  the  dissolution  of  all  earnestness  under  the  slow 
paralysis  of  the  custom.  The  biographer  of  De  Maistre 
discloses  the  estimate  put  on  preaching  in  the  seven 
teenth  century,  by  observing  that,  in  early  life,  he  had  an 
intention  of  becoming  a  preacher,  but,  happening  to  be 
come  religious  on  the  way,  he  gave  it  up !  Are  there  not 
some  in  our  own  day  who  reverse  the  process,  and,  hav 
ing  begun  to  preach  religion,  persist  in  preaching  after 
they  have  ceased  to  be  religious?  It  is  this  heartless 
routine  that  is  fatal  to  both  parties  :  it  is  the  death  of  the 
function,  and  the  damnation  of  the  functionary.  Rather 
than  have  its  life  eaten  out  by  it,  a  Christian  society 
would  do  well  to  be  disbanded.  Better  that  the  formal 
ities  of  such  a  ministry  should  be  brushed  away,  as  a 
stumbling-block  before  the  gate  of  Heaven. 

5.  A  Living  Ministry :  its  engagedness  will  be  a  nat 
ural  engagedness,  and  its  methods  natural  methods ;  not 
a  spasmodic,  not  a  fitful,  not  an  artificial  activity.  It 
will  not  attempt  to  excite  a  warmth  of  the  moral  parts 
by  friction,  nor  to  promote  a  galvanic  action  of  principle 
by  the  apparatus  of  an  ecclesiastical  battery,  nor  to  ex 
tort  gushes  of  pietistic  sentiment  by  the  forcing-pump  of 
strained  exhortation.  It  will  throw  itself  back  on  the 
laws  of  the  soul,  and  use  no  other  dynamics  than  the 
spiritual.  It  will  do  nothing  for  stage  effect,  which  is  the 
essence  of  cant ;  using  speech  out  of  which  all  meaning 
has  withered.  The  life  it  will  seek  first  to  possess  in  its 
own  inmost  heart,  and  then  to  transmit  and  diffuse,  is 


THE    WORD    OF    LIFE.  453 

that  sustained,  regular  life,  having  its  springs  among  the 
pillars  under  the  oracles  of  God,  beating  with  the  even 
pulse  of  health,  revealing  its  transcendent  beauty  in  daily 
purity  and  justice,  as  conspicuous  in  the  household,  the 
market-place,  and  the  counting-room  as  in  the  sanctu 
ary.  This  life  will  tell  on  the  open  and  yielding  heart  of 
the  world,  with  a  benignity  of  influence,  of  such  holy 
and  regenerative  power,  as  no  reach  of  vision,  save  that 
prophetic  eye  that  looks  into  the  immortal  ages,  can 
measure. 

6.  A  living  ministry  will  cast  off  the  spirit  of  formal 
ism,  or  rather  that  dead  body  of  formalism  that  has  no 
spirit ;  it  will  forsake  paths  that  have  no  better  recom 
mendation  than  that  they  are  beaten  and  dusty,  out  of 
allegiance  to  every  behest  that  comes  direct  from  the 
bosom  of  reality ;  it  will  be  in  itself,  on  its  practical  side, 
an  example  of  its  doctrine ;  it  will  set  that  doctrine  forth 
in  a  spirit  at  once  transparent  and  fearless,  unpretending 
and  scholarlike ;  despising  all  guilty  servility  to  the  over 
bearing  few  or  the  popular  many,  it  will  refuse  to  be 
hemmed  in  by  any  arbitrary  geography  of  its  province, 
or  to  be  imposed  upon  by  politic  sophistry ;  it  will  have 
its  frank  and  independent  word  on  every  matter  that  af 
fects  the  hopes  or  the  integrity  of  mankind,  without  the 
boyish  folly  of  perpetually  running  about  to  proclaim  its 
independence,  and  saying  bold  things  only  to  show  that 
it  dares  to  ;  it  will  free  itself  from  all  prejudices  that  im 
pair  its  single-mindedness ;  it  will  place  itself  among 
men,  as  a  genuine  helper  of  humanity,  in  all  its  garbs 
and  all  its  trials,  brave  as  a  prophet,  devoted  as  an  apos 
tle,  tender  as  John,  fearless  as  Paul,  ardent  as  Peter, 
blameless  as  James,  a  learner  of  the  Christ,  a  workman 
whose  errand  is  from  Heaven,  to  persuade  and  lead 


454  THE    WORD    OF    LIFE. 

men's  souls  thither.  When  such  a  ministry  is  realized, 
be  sure  not  only  that  it  will  not  have  to  dispute  its  title 
to  honor,  will  not  have  to  plead  for  a  hearing,  will  not 
complain  of  a  decline  of  its  prestige ;  be  sure  not  only 
that  the  eager  heart  of  the  community  will  reverence  it, 
will  leap  to  listen  to  it,  but  be  sure  also  that  the  reign  of 
irreligious  worldliness  will  be  broken  up,  and  the  fairer 
kingdom  of  spiritual  truth  and  life  will  be  established  on 
its  ruins. 

This  sort  of  ministry,  too,  proceeding  out  of  an  endear 
ing  faith  in  the  Lord  of  life,  will  extinguish  the  vile  am 
bition  among  preachers  to  turn  sermons  into  orations, 
and  the  pulpit  into  an  ethical  or  literary  lecture-stand, 
substituting  smartness  for  sanctity,  —  the  bitter  root  of 
so  much  clerical  impotence.  Preaching  that  runs  from 
any  man's  brain  downward  is  very  likely  to  run  thin  and 
run  out,  as  so  much  preaching  does.  Only  that  unction 
is  mighty,  which,  being  poured  through  a  mind  at  once 
cultivated  and  consecrated,  draws  its  original  inspiration 
from  Him  who  spake  as  man  never  spake.  Overmaster 
ing  all  his  anxieties  about  his  position,  foreclosing  the 
query  what  he  shall  preach  about,  at  query  that  always 
reveals  a  relaxed  conviction  and  an  empty  covenant,  this 
sweeps  all  his  energies  one  way,  in  spite  of  indifference 
or  opposition,  in  spite  of  worldly  complaisance  and  flat 
tery. 

I  have  said  enough  already  of  the  substance  of  doc 
trine  to  be  preached,  to  forestall  any  occasion  for  enlarg 
ing  upon  it  as  one  of  the  qualifications  of  the  ministry 
here.  One  or  two  warnings,  however,  lie  so  much  across 
the  line  of  our  liberal  tendencies,  that  I  cannot  forbear  an 
allusion  to  them. 

7.  A  ministry  of  the  word  of  life,  as  follows  from  our 


THE    WORD    OF    LIFE.  455 

doctrine  thus  far,  is  one  that  preaches  more  than  moral 
decency,  —  preaches  piety,  regeneration,  and  faith.  En 
thusiasm  is  not  a  danger  that  the  modern  Church  has 
much  to  fear  from.  We  want  righteousness  much ;  but 
a  vital  faith  first,  as  the  quickener,  the  inspiration  of 
that.  In  the  Pilgrim's  Progress,  Bunyan  tells  us  of  a 
Mr.  Legality,  "  a  very  judicious  man,  and  a  man  of  very 
good  name "  ;  and  of  his  having  "  a  pretty  young  man 
to  his  son,  whose  name  is  Civility " ;  and  of  their  both 
boasting  great  skill  to  take  off  the  burden  from  Chris 
tian's  shoulders ;  and  of  their  dwelling  in  the  village  of 
Morality,  where  provision  is  always  cheap  and  good,  and 
one  may  live  with  honest  neighbors  in  credit  and  good 
fashion.  But  Evangelist  shows  that  Mr.  Legality  is  a 
spiritual  cheat,  and  that  his  son  Civility  is  a  hypocrite, 
and  that  the  village  of  Morality  has  no  church  in  it  for 
the  preaching  of  any  but  the  doctrine  of  this  world,  be 
cause  "  by  the  deeds  of  the  law  shall  no  man  living  be 
justified."  We  must  go,  brethren,  beyond  Sinai  to  Cal 
vary,  —  beyond  the  deeds  of  the  law  to  the  pardon  of  the 
cross. 

"  Talk  they  of  morals  ? 

The  grand  morality,  thou  bleeding  Lamb, 

Is  love  of  thee." 

8.  The  ministry  that  holds  forth  the  "word  of  life" 
must  not  be  afraid  to  assert  sometimes,  on  the  authority 
of  Scripture,  what  passes  its  own  reason.  Every  great 
spiritual  doctrine  terminates  in  mystery,  by  the  very  ne 
cessity  of  spirit.  Bound  religion  by  the  geography  of 
the  understanding,  and  it  ceases  to  be  religion.  Faith  is 
sacrificed  to  science.  There  is  more  in  our  religion  than 
dictionaries  can  define,  or  syntax  state,  or  logic  prove. 
The  very  essence  of  faith  is  a  reverential  confession  of 


456  THE    WORD    OF    LIFE. 

the  limitations  of  sight.  In  one  of  the  temples  at  Mem 
phis,  there  was  a  statue  of  Isis,  with  the  face  veiled.  A 
son  of  the  priest,  curious  to  unlock  this  marble  secret, 
and  to  see  what  hidden  beauty  might  glorify  the  features 
beneath,  hacked  off  the  stone  veil  with  a  hammer.  He 
found,  of  course,  only  the  ragged  gashes  of  his  own  mis 
chief.  An  impious  inquisitiveness,  prying  too  far,  had 
spoilt  the  divine  symmetry  of  the  image.  So  is  it  with 
us  all,  too  often,  —  foolish  children,  that  would  subject  the 
mysteries  of  revelation  to  the  inspection  of  sense,  and, 
despising  faith,  rudely  insist  on  vision.  We  leave  only 
a  deformity  to  admire,  and  a  ruin  to  adore.  Not  yet, 
not  yet,  can  we  behold  face  to  face !  Few  eyes,  I  think, 
have  seen  deeper  into  God's  majestic  disclosures  than 
those  piercing  ones  that  looked  out  from  under  the  dark 
Hebrew  brow  of  the  Christian  historian,  Neander.  But 
this  was  the  motto  that  he  kept  inscribed  on  his  study- 
wall,  making  his  library  to  open  upward  into  heaven,  — 
"  Now  we  see  through  a  glass  darkly,  but  then  face  to 
face." 

9.  A  living  ministry  is  one  that  not  only  speaks  with 
directness  and  simplicity,  addressing  itself,  with  a  tone 
of  manly  earnestness,  straight  to  the  matter  in  hand,  as 
if  dealing  with  ponderous  realities  that  need  no  circum 
locution,  but  it  avoids  abstruse  terms  for  the  most  part, 
and,  in  preference,  chooses  language  that  is  concrete  and 
personal.  The  individual  or  the  sect,  for  instance,  that 
speaks  habitually  of  Christianity,  however  reverentially 
and  gratefully,  will  be  found  to  exercise  a  feeble  com 
mand  over  the  affections  of  men,  compared  with  the  one 
which,  when  it  means  the  same  thing,  says,  Christ  Jesus, 
the  Saviour.  So  the  preaching  that  enumerates  the  doc 
trines  which  cluster  about  the  crucifixion,  and  presents 


THE    WORD    OF    LIFE.  457 

them,  however  eloquently,  as  only  an  abstract  scheme  of 
truths,  will  often  glide  languidly  over  the  unroused  con 
science  ;  while  enthusiasm  takes  fire,  and  zeal  stretches 
every  nerve,  at  each  thrilling  mention  of  that  central 
figure,  the  cross,  or  those  dear  scenes,  so  vivid  to  the 
sense, —  Calvary  and  the  Garden.  Napoleon's  celebrated 
maxim,  "  There  are  but  two  powers  in  the  world,  kindness 
and  the  sword,"  is  but  a  feeble  paraphrase  of  the  fiery- 
hearted  Loyola's,  —  "  Two  kingdoms  divide  the  world, 
Immanuel's  and  Satan's."  It  was  never  the  utterance 
of  smooth  abstractions,  that  wrought  with  drastic  en 
ergy  on  the  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins ;  —  brought  three 
thousand  converts  into  the  Church,  by  a  single  sermon 
at  Pentecost ;  fascinated  the  young  Florentine  artists, 
and  drew  them  away  from  their  models  and  galleries 
to  catch  the  pictures  that  were  unrolled  in  the  sentences 
of  Savonarola,  the  author  of  the  "  Triumphus  Crucis  "  ; 
moved  back  an  audience  of  French  noblesse  in  a  percep 
tible  bodily  recoil  from  the  cathedral  altar,  when  the  fin 
gers  of  Massillon's  imagination  opened  the  covers  of  the 
blazing  pit ;  cast  down  thousands  of  sturdy  English  yeo 
men  upon  their  knees  to  pray,  when  Wesley  ordered  the 
visible  array  of  heaven  and  earth  into  the  service  of  his 
oratory ;  bore  the  gracious  blessing  of  Bunyan's  enchant 
ing  dream  on  its  world- wide  errand  of  holy  delight, — 
a  charming  evangel ;  made  the  stout-hearted  New  Eng 
land  Puritans  at  Northampton  clutch  the  railings  of  their 
pews  when  Edwards  told  them  of  the  "  due  time,"  as  if 
then*  feet  were  that  instant  veritably  sliding ;  and  extorted 
from  a  brave  but  sensual  soldier  the  confession,  that  he 
would  rather  storm  the  bridge  of  Lodi  than  hear  a  chap 
ter  of  the  Epistles  to  the  Corinthians.  Dying  men,  you 
have  observed,  speak  little  of  Christianity,  and  less  of  the 

39 


458  THE    WORD    OF    LIFE. 

system  of  truth,  or  laws  of  nature.  They  say  Christ. 
Last  breaths  are  too  short  for  abstractions,  and  can  only 
articulate  the  one  dear  and  all-prevailing  name.  The 
fading  sight  loses  all  images  but  the  cross.  And  so  a 
whole  body  of  hard  divinity  has  sometimes  been  melted 
down  by  one  hour  of  pain  ;  and,  on  the  stammering  lips 
of  death,  a  dainty  philosophy  has  burst  into  that  strong 
cry  of  praise,  — "  I  know  that  my  Redeemer  liveth." 

Revelation  is  never  abstruse.  The  New  Testament 
says  nothing  of  "  Christianity."  The  word  is  not  there. 
But  when  God  would  save  the  world,  he  sends  the  Sav 
iour,  with  a  throbbing  heart  and  a  living  voice.  The 
first  teachers  said  nothing  about  Christianity;  and,  for 
an  abstract  Christianity,  it  is  doubtful  if  they  would  ever 
have  faced  martyrdom.  But  "Christ  crucified"  and 
"the  resurrection"  they  could  preach  in  jails  and  syna 
gogues,  turn  the  world  upside  down  for  and  die  for, 
counting  it  all  joy.  And  so  effectually  were  some  of  the 
strong  concrete  words  they  used, —  though  borrowed  from 
a  Hebrew  economy  swept  clean  out  of  the  world  almost 
while  they  were  writing,  —  yet  lodged  in  the  undying 
affections  of  men,  that  you  can  no  more  extract  their 
power  by  age,  than  you  can  dry  their  odors  out  of  the 
cedars  of  Lebanon. 

Is  it  said  that  such  representations  of  the  profession  as 
I  have  here  given,  by  presenting  a  standard  that  is  im 
practicably  high,  are  a  discouragement  to  those  that  might 
be  induced  to  enter  it?  Heaven  forbid  that  anything 
should  be  said,  here  or  anywhere,  dissuasive  of  assuming 
the  ministerial  office ;  the  reluctance  is  deplorable  enough 
already.  But  I  do  not  suppose  that  a  stringent  stand 
ard  is  one  of  the  things  likely  to  repel  any  laborer  true- 
minded  and  stout-hearted  enough  to  make  the  Church 


THE    WORD    OF    LIFE.  459 

desire  him.  On  the  contrary,  I  believe  a  lofty  standard, 
to  every  man  whose  nerve  is  not  flaccid,  —  any  brave, 
resolute,  aspiring  man,  —  is  one  of  the  most  fascinating 
things  under  the  sun.  It  will  even  tighten  slackened 
sinews. 

And  just  here  I  find  a  new  argument  for  a  living  min 
istry,  in  the  fact  that  it  would  be  the  speediest  antidote 
to  that  dearth  of  efficient  ministers  that  is  now,  in  all 
Protestant  sects,  so  generally  lamented.  Various  rem 
edies  are  proposed.  But  let  it  be  thoroughly  understood 
and  felt  in  a  community,  that  its  religious  teachers  were 
a  body  not  merely  reputably  alive,  but  crowded  and 
instinct  at  every  point  with  life,  absorbed  with  interest, 
aglow  with  enthusiasm,  and  nothing  in  the  compass  of 
human  attainments  would  be  so  commanding  over  the 
inclinations  of  young  men.  Possibly  some,  whom  other 
callings  tempt  by  a  louder  promise  of  wealth  or  reputa 
tion,  might  be  found  willing  to  forego  fame  and  luxury, 
for  the  sake  of  contributing  their  share  to  the  sanctifica- 
tion  of  the  coming  age.  Let  the  nucleus  formed  be  in 
Christian  earnest,  —  be  full  of  living,  burning  heat ;  and, 
like  the  molten  jet  of  volcanic  lava  we  sometimes  see 
shooting  up  through  the  inert  strata  of  rock  and  soil 
about  it,  it  would  fuse  all  the  surrounding  mass  into  a 
state  homogeneous  with  its  own. 

So  of  the  want  of  sympathy  complained  of  in  the  pro 
fession.  How  can  sympathy  exist  where  there  is  no 
consentaneous  spiritual  life  ?  What  is  sympathy,  in 
deed,  except  that,  —  GVV  Traflo?,  —  a  feeling  together  ?  A 
lifeless  sympathy  is  a  contradiction  in  terms.  Fellow- 
feeling  in  death,  —  harmony  between  corpses,  —  is  an 
absurdity.  Bring  in  vitality  of  purpose,  and  vitality  of 
action,  and  you  break  down  all  barriers  of  suspicion. 


460  THE    WORD    OP    LIFE. 

Raise  the  head-waters  of  spiritual  life,  and  all  the  sep 
arate  fountains  become  so  full  and  leaping  in  their  mo 
tion,  that  they  gush  spontaneously  over,  and  mingle 
together.  When  the  new  life  is  begotten,  even  the 
tongue  of  dumbness  becomes  vocal,  —  like  the  healed 
man's  in  Decapolis. 

III.  But  it  is  time  to  turn,  and  contemplate  the  living 
Church,  —  the  whole  body  of  Christian  disciples,  minis 
tered  to  by  this  living  ministry,  nourished  by  a  vital 
communion  with  Christ  the  Source,  and  putting  forth 
the  energy  of  its  inner  life,  in  a  practical  piety  on  the 
one  hand,  and  a  spiritual  righteousness  on  the  other. 

See  how  such  a  state  of  the  Church  would  furnish  the 
best  possible  safeguard  against  the  evils  that,  in  these 
times,  most  threaten  its  purity  and  its  peace.  One  of 
these  is  dogmatism.  Once  possess 'a  man,  no  matter 
whether  he  is  a  Puritan  or  a  Bishop,  a  Quaker  or  a  Car 
dinal,  with  a  quickened  and  renewed  spiritual  life,  and 
to  him  dogmatism  becomes  impossible.  He  may  be  a 
controversialist  or  an  enthusiast,  but  never  an  acrimo 
nious  dogmatist.  A  principle  animates  him,  which,  just 
so  far  as  it  actuates  him,  saves  him  from  that  particular 
sin.  It  marks  the  distinction  between  that  cordial  at 
tachment  to  believed  doctrine  which  is  commendable, 
and  that  complacent  assumption  of  infallibility  in  the 
creed  which  is  condemnable.  It  gives  him  a  touchstone, 
by  which  he  instinctively  shrinks  from  bigotry,  as  from  a 
partnership  in  disgrace,  and  arms  him  against  being  vic 
timized  by  the  idol-speculations  of  his  own  brain.  What 
ever  names  the  boasting  sects  may  chronicle  in  then- 
calendars  of  saints,  none  that  deserved  canonization  ever 
lived  who  worshipped  the  abstractions  of  dogma  more 


THE    WORD    OF    LIFE.  461 

than  the  Lord  of  life.  It  is  with  denominations  as  with 
persons:  in  proportion  as  they  are  quick  with  spiritual 
purpose,  they  are  free  from  the  shame  of  dogmatism. 

Another  danger  is  formalism.  Formalism  crept  into 
the  Church  from  two  sources,  Judaism  and  Paganism,— 
one  of  which  completely  wrapped  up  and  hid  its  life  in 
ceremony,  till  it  suffered  consumption  ;  and  the  other 
had  not  life  enough  under  its  ritual  to  keep  its  pomp  and 
pageantry  even  outwardly  decent.  Once  in,  formalism 
found  material  enough  to  foster  it  in  human  indolence 
and  human  pride  ;  and  so  it  kept  on  growing  by  the 
help  of  every  idle  Christian's  sluggishness,  and  every  bad 
system's  misleading,  and  every  ecclesiastical  despot's 
ambition,  till  finally  it  swelled  into  the  vast,  stately,  hol 
low,  tinselled,  and  draperied  fabric  of  the  Popedom. 
When  religious  forms  have  first  been  devised,  a  certain 
freshness  of  conviction  has  gone  into  them,  that  has 
made  them  vital.  But  presently  the  life  has  refused  to 
stand  and  stagnate  in  these  cisterns,  and  so  ebbed  away 
and  sought  out  new  channels.  The  mistake  has  been, 
that  the  forms  have  insisted  on  standing,  after  the  life 
within  was  gone  ;  and  accordingly  their  figure  has  been 
that  of  wooden  vessels  shrunk  and  dried  in  the  sun.  It 
was  so  with  the  forms  of  the  Romish  Church,  of  the 
Church  of  Henry  the  Eighth  and  the  Bishops,  of  Presby- 
terianism  and  of  Quakerism,  for  the  Quaker  is  in  his 
way  a  formalist.  But  indolence  and  pride  are  as  much 
opposed  by  spiritual  life  now,  as  the  Judaism  and  Hea 
thenism  of  eighteen  hundred  years  ago.  Where  there  is 
that  life,  how  can  ceremonies  be  put  before  virtues, — the 
husk  and  shell  before  the  kernel  and  substance, — broad 
phylacteries  for  a  generous  character,  —  religious  usages 
as  substitutes  for  righteousness  and  faith,  —  mint,  anise, 


462  THE    WORD    OF    LIFE. 

and  cumin,  for  self-sacrifice,  charity,  and  truth?  In  a 
consecration  to  the  substance  of  piety  ;  in  a  nearer  fel 
lowship  with  Jesus,  and  a  more  palpable  and  inwrought 
experience  of  his  regenerating  and  transforming  truth,  — 
in  this,  and  this  only,  shall  the  Church,  or  any  of  its  so 
cieties,  find  escape  from  formalism.  Form  is  body.  A 
living  doctrine  never  need  advertise  for  a  body,  nor  go 
carefully  about  to  invent  one,  any  more  than  a  young 
oak  needs  to  advertise  for  a  trunk  and  branches.  God 
giveth  it  a  body  as  it  hath  pleased  him.  Get  the  faith, 
and  it  will  shape  a  form  of  its  own.  Have  a  heart  full 
of  prayer  ;  or  else  a  liturgy,  a  gradation  of  priestly  offices, 
postures,  wax-candles  burning  in  the  day-time,  bowing 
to  the  east,  priestly  manipulations,  will  never  so  con 
ciliate  the  Holy  Ghost  as  to  matriculate  you  in  the  arms 
of  the  holy  Jerusalem  which  is  above  and  free,  the 
mother  of  us  all. 

Another  embarrassment  to  the  modern  Church  is  in 
the  suspicion,  if  not  the  open  enmity,  of  those  companies 
of  men  associated  for  the  special  reform  of  specific  social 
abuses,  whose  young  ardor  for  the  favorite  cause  makes 
the  Church  seem  lumbering  and  superannuated.  Is  it 
not  clear  that  the  Church  will  best  discharge  herself  of 
blame,  reconcile  her  sometimes  unfilial  child,  Philan 
thropy,  to  her  bosom,  escape  all  compromise  of  dignity, 
and  at  the  same  time  be  realizing  her  own  destiny,  by 
addressing  herself  to  the  most  earnest  unfolding  of  the 
divine  life  within  her,  out  of  which  all  humanities  must 
be  supplied,  and  becoming  altogether  alive  with  Christ  ? 

Another  bad  tendency  is  to  partisanship.  Malicious 
as  the  temper  of  religious  parties  and  partisans  is,  direct 
efforts  to  allay  it  will  always  be  less  effective  than  that 
consecrated  fervor  in  the*  life  of  godliness,  which  crowds 


THE    WORD    OF    LIFE.  463 

it  out  of  breath,  and  grows  over  it.  It  is  hardly  to  be 
supposed,  that  an  Antichrist  that  has  lodged  under  the 
shelter  of  the  nominal  fold  so  many  centuries  can  be 
eliminated  by  a  single  struggle.  He  is  too  hospitably 
entertained,  and  too  assiduously  courted,  even  by  those 
that  in  their  better  moments  venture  tp  hint  that  he  is 
unwelcome,  to  make  such  hints  effective.  The  Church 
has  never  enjoyed  an  entire  exemption  from  civil  war. 
The  moment  men  agreeing  in  theology  have  been  de 
nominated,  as  if  their  name  had  wrought  a  malignant 
spell  upon  them,  they  have  begun  to  commit  denomina 
tional  sin.  Sectarian  ambition  springs  up  ;  sectarian 
pride  sets  in  ;  sectarian  animosity  is  engendered  ;  secta 
rian  officiousness  goes  out  capturing  proselytes;  secta 
rian  jealousy  rankles;  and  finally,  with  all  its  fury,  wrath, 
and  strategy,  its  bloodhound  passions,  and  its  musketry 
of  accusation,  and  its  small  arms  of  malignant  slander, 
open  sectarian  battle  rages.  Christendom  slips  back 
into  practical  Paganism,  while  Christians  sit  picking 
motes  out  of  one  another's  eyes.  One  would  think  an 
intelligent  reading  of  experience  would  show,  that,  if  any 
other  possible  agency  than  a  higher  tone  of  spiritual  life 
were  to  accomplish  unity  or  concord,  it  would  have  been 
attained  before  this.  That  is  the  only  experiment  that 
has  not  been  fairly  and  fully  tried.  When  it  is  tried 
fairly  and  fully,  it  will  solve  the  difficulty  that  theology 
has  been  spending  ingenious  abstractions  upon  ever 
since  the  days  of  Constantine.  Ecclesiastical  councils 
will  drop  into  matters  of  history.  Trent,  and  Dort,  and 
Nice  will  be  only  landmarks  of  a  completed  pilgrimage 
across  a  desert,  —  the  grass-covered  battle-fields  of  a 
finished  crusade,  —  ending,  not  in  a  holy  sepulchre,  but 
in  a  holy  life.  Tests  and  bulls  of  excommunication  will 


464  THE    WORD    OF    LIFE. 

be  respectfully  hung  up  with  other  antiquarian  relics, 
and  it  will  be  seen  and  felt  that  a  Church  is  nothing  less 
than  a  vital  body  of  cordial  believers  in  Christ,  partakers 
of  his  spirit,  and  workers  for  his  truth.  A  faith  so  quick 
and  ample  will  one  day  realize  the  wondrous  reconcilia 
tions  of  the  Prophet's  vision  in  the  holy  mountain,  — 
where  the  lion  lies  down  with  the  lamb,  and  none  hurt 
nor  destroy ;  it  will  lay  Calvin's  hand  in  Channing's,  — 
put  the  band  of  one  magic  name,  even  the  common 
Master's,  round  the  lives  of  the  philanthropic  Clarkson 
and  the  mystical  devotees  of  Port  Royal,  —  draw  a  Prot 
estant  veneration  to  the  Catholic  Fenelon,  —  and  canon 
ize  the  practical,  road-building  Oberlin  of  Waldbach  into 
companionship  with  the  quietistic  saints  of  the  Romish 
Calendar. 

Thus  we  come,  finally,  in  our  subject,  —  as  God  grant 
we  may  come  veritably  and  visibly  in  the  age  that  he  is 
preparing,  —  to  the  Living  Church.  It  is  a  body,  whose 
life,  in  all  the  possible  strictness  and  signification  of  the 
word,  is  the  life  of  Christ  in  the  soul.  Of  the  accom 
plishments,  the  amenities,  the  graces  of  intellect  that 
adorn  our  worldly  relations,  modern  civilization  leaves 
no  deficiency.  What  we  most  deeply  and  pressingly 
need  is  the  life  of  religious  sensibility,  —  the  faith  that 
leans  on  God,  the  hope  that  reaches  up  to  immortality, 
the  love  that  seizes  things  invisible.  This  we  need,  su- 
peradded  to  our  civilization,  —  our  educational  and  com 
mercial  privileges,  —  or  rather,  laid  as  the  basis  of  them. 
Life  itself,  the  true  or  inward  life,  is  overlaid  and  crushed 
by  the  mere  appendages  of  living.  Buying  and  selling, 
getting  gain  and  getting  knowledge,  are  made  to  limit  the 
energies  of  our  immortality,  and  dwarf  God's  image  in 
us.  Science  as  well  as  traffic,  literature  and  the  schools 


THE    WORD    OF    LIFE.  465 

as  well  as  business,  wait  for  the  ennobling  influence  of 
faith,  the  purifying  breath  of  devotion,  the  sanctification 
of  prayer.  I  have  heard  of  an  honest  clergyman,  a 
preacher  to  sailors,  in  one  of  the  floating  Bethels  that 
are  seen  at  some  of  our  Eastern  seaports,  whose  contro 
versial  reading  hardly  kept  pace  with  his  zeal,  and  who 
was  asked  one  day,  whether  his  chapel  was  "high 
church  "  or  "  low  church."  Supposing,  in  his  simplici 
ty,  that  the  question  referred  to  the  position  of  his  Beth 
el,  he  answered,  that  it  depended  entirely  on  the  tide ! 
Now,  fashionable  worldliness  is  the  tide  that  graduates 
the  standing  of  too  many  of  our  churches ;  and  the 
higher  it  keeps  their  taxes  and  social  reputation,  the 
lower  it  keeps  the  tone  of  their  piety. 

Never  so  accommodate  religion,  gentlemen,  in  your 
preaching,  to  the  fraudulent  practices  of  the  business 
world,  that  you  will  fall  into  the  same  class  with  the 
Gypsy  mother  mentioned  by  Borrow  the  traveller,  who 
said  to  her  children  in  the  morning,  "  Now,  children,  say 
your  prayers  ;  and  then  go,  steal  your  breakfast." 

Spiritual  indolence  is,  in  these  times,  the  worst  enemy 
the  Church  has  to  encounter.  It  is  not  that  men  openly 
reject  and  make  war  upon  her,  but  that  they  drowsily 
sleep  around  her  altar.  It  is  that  men  are  content  with 
such  paltry  satisfactions  and  tinsel  comforts  as  the  senses 
can  bribe  them  with,  heedless  of  the  inward  instincts  that 
claim  communion  with  the  skies.  It  is  that  eternity  has 
no  awfulness  to  them,  life  no  depth  of  meaning,  enjoy 
ment  no  obligations,  bereavement  no  solemnity,  suffering 
and  sorrow  no  prophetic  suggestions  of  an  hereafter,  the 
soul  no  aspirations,  conscience  no  echo  of  God,  Christ  no 
enrapturing  beauty  in  his  holiness,  the  resurrection  no 
pledge  of  heaven.  It  is  that  men  can  stretch  themselves 


466  THE    WORD    OP    LIFE. 

on  their  couches  of  ease,  and  slumber,  amidst  the  sublim- 
est  mysteries  and  most  stirring  revelations  of  Providence. 
What  we  need,  then,  to  bring  back  the  Church'  to  her 
life,  is  to  awake  and  arise ;  to  hearken  and  watch ;  to  wait 
on  the  Holy  Spirit ;  to  snatch  the  film  from  our  eyeballs  ; 
to  lift  our  waiting  souls  to  God,  like  flowers  parched  with 
drought  to  the  rain ;  to  breathe  in  his  blessed  life ;  to  be 
regenerated  and  consecrated  by  his  inspiration  of  love, 
communicated  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord. 

There  is  a  life  that  is  fitful  and  spasmodic,  lively  in  the 
conference  and  enthusiastic  at  a  revival,  but  which  falls 
into  a  dreary  eclipse  at  the  merchant's  desk,  or  the  lob 
bies  of  a  State-house,  or  the  political  caucus,  or  the  round 
of  a  housekeeper's  vexations.  But  the  life  of  a  Christ- 
like  soul  is  as  steadfast  as  it  is  earnest,  as  firm  in  the 
scoffs  of  the  judgment-hall,  or  under  the  crown  of  thorns, 
as  in  the  meditations  of  Mount  Olivet  and  the  solemn 
stillness  of  the  temple.  It  stands  with  as  serene  a  fore 
head  before  the  scorn  of  fashion,  as  before  the  flatteries 
of  partisans.  It  lifts  itself  with  as  majestic  port  against 
the  sly  seductions  of  Fortune,  when  she  bids  a  higher  and 
higher  price  for  the  soul,  as  when  the  way  is  safe,  and  all 
perils  are  swept  out  of  its  path.  Where  the  Church 
lives,  —  where  it  holds  its  Master's  spirit  and  truth,  not 
as  the  mortuary  of  a  deceased  and  buried  benefactor,  but 
as  the  inbreathing  of  a  present  inspiration, — it  will  never 
suffer  its  members  to  sit  idly  with  folded  hands,  looking 
lazily  out  on  the  white  fields  of  harvest,  where  no  reap 
er's  sickle  rings  against  the  wheat;  but  it  will  send  them 
forth  to  work,  nerved  with  an  impulse  that  no  disap 
pointment  can  palsy,  no  misgivings  keep  back.  You 
may  bum  temples ;  you  may  pulverize  rituals ;  you  may 
absorb  creeds;  you  may  strangle  missionaries;  but  the 


.       THE    WORD    OF    LIFE.  467 

eternally  reproductive  energy  of  such  a  Church  as  that 
lives  on. 

If  the  Church  will  go  forth,  then,  to  win  new  victories, 
she  needs  only  to  take  fearlessly  up  the  supremacy  with 
which  her  God  has  dowered  her,  namely,  the  reconciling 
life  of  her  indwelling  Lord.  Shutting  up  all  internal 
questions  that  make  her  militant  against  herself,  she  is 
to  move  on  in  her  own  absolute,  sublime  majesty,  mili 
tant  only  against  every  form  of  sin,  to  enthrone  the  king 
dom  of  God.  She  must  cease  to  beg  favors  of  worldly 
policy.  She  must  stop  her  infamous  coquetry  with 
Mammon.  She  must  not  be  bowing  on  Sundays  to  sec 
tarian  prejudice,  nor  on  week-days  to  social  respecta 
bility,  nor  ever  whisper  guilty  flatteries  to  popular  sins, 
nor  wait  till  great  public  vices  are  manifestly  dying  out 
of  themselves,  and  feeble  with  approaching  dissolution, 
before  she  dares  strike  at  them.  The  stanch,  uncom 
promising  sincerity  of  old  Puritans  and  Confessors  must 
be  in  her  muscles.  An  awful  zeal  must  gird  up  her 
loins.  Purity,  freedom,  equity,  are  to  be  more  to  her 
than  costly  churches ;  the  prayers  of  saintly  men  and 
women,  and  children  too,  her  patronage ;  and  her  daily 
speech,  the  benediction  of  charity.  She  must  hold  forth, 
through  her  ministers,  the  word  of  life ;  to  wit,  that  God 
is  in  Christ,  reconciling  the  world  unto  himself. 

You,  my  brothers,  members  of  the  Graduating  Class, 
are  henceforth  permitted  the  unrivalled  privilege  of  en 
tering  into  these  grand  enterprises  of  amelioration,  fur 
nished  by  wise  instruction  for  your  lofty  office. 

I  bid  you  move  into  your  sacred  calling  with  such  joy 
ous  hopes  as  the  Puritan  army  had,  who  marched  to  the 
fight  at  Naseby  chanting  praise.  Go,  charged  with  some 
thing  of  the  brave  temper  of  that  devoted  missionary, 


468  THE    WORD    OF    LIFE. 

Gordon  Hall,  so  ardent  to  reach  the  heathen  with  his 
message,  that  he  offered  to  work  his  passage  to  the  field ; 
with  -the  faith  of  those  valiant  discoverers  that  burnt  then- 
boats  behind  them  when  they  touched  the  shore ;  with 
the  self-scrutiny  of  Paul,  who  agonized,  lest,  having 
preached  to  others,  though  woe  was  on  him  if  he 
preached  not,  he  himself  might  be  cast  away.  With 
out  these,  all  the  machinery  of  Funds  and  Theological 
Schools  will  be  like  expecting  to  make  sand  deserts 
fruitful  by  drainage. 

See  that  no  needed  reforms  are  unchurched,  because 
the  Church  would  not  nurture  them,  through  your  life- 
lessness  or  cowardice.  Be  independent,  and  not  mere 
movable  articles  of  church  furniture.  Scorn  all  meas 
ures  of  self-promotion,  and  renounce  ambition  before  you 
cross  this  threshold  to-night. 

Lean  only  on  the  Spirit  of  Infinite  Pity  and  Help. 
Keep  the  simplicity  of  childlike  trust.  Never  measure 
your  fidelity  by  the  poor  signals  of  man's  applause.  Be 
willing  to  share  your  Master's  glory,  made  perfect  through 
suffering.  Nowhere  be  ashamed  of  the  Gospel  of  Re 
demption.  Be  sure  your  real  success,  in  the  last  awards, 
will  be  found  in  the  exact  measure  of  the  fervor  and  con 
stancy  -of  your  communion  with  your  Lord.  Let  it  be 
enough  if  his  strength  is  manifest  through  your  weak 
ness.  Hold  forth  "  the  word  of  life."  Preach  "  God  in 
Christ,  reconciling  the  world  unto  himself."  And 

"  May  the  hour 

Soon  come,  when,  all  false  gods,  false  creeds,  false  prophets 
Demolished,  the  round  world  shall  be  at  last 
The  mercy-seat  of  God,  the  heritage 
Of  Christ,  and  the  possession  of  the  Spirit ! " 


THE    END. 


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